Sunday, April 24, 2005

There's a meaning to the world

Today marks 6 years that Kyle passed away. So strange.

I still think of him often - every day in fact. It used to freak me out how often I thought of him. Like maybe I had something unresolved with him and it was now "haunting" me in a way. But now I realize that I think of him because I was so fond of him and our relationship. He was such a special person in my life and so many good memories involve him in some way: bus rides home, first crushes, party-crashing, basketball games, Lakers, valedictorian speeches, bean bags, ski passes, best friends...

I remember being in every class with him since 5th grade until he went to Track C and I was on Track A in 8th grade and how bummed I was. Being the only three kids our age who lived in our neighborhood, for a long time, it was me, him and Eliah - his best friend who I had a crush on. When I finally realized Eliah had long had his eye on another girl, Kyle made it known he had liked me all along. I agreed to go out with him, but being in 7th grade, it was mostly because I was interested in nursing my broken heart. Proof that I was already a direct girl even back then, I refused to accept his invitation to be his girlfriend via his friends - I made him ask me himself. Such torture for a 12 year old boy. I broke up with him shortly after because I realized I just couldn't get over Eliah. He hated me for a while after that, and of course, wanting what I couldn't have, I then had it bad for Kyle. Ahhh, middle school life.

High school we had different interests, but we always rode the bus together. And he was faithful to give me a ride to school after he got his license. I returned the favor after I finally got mine and his car was in the shop. We still talked all the time and would hang out occasionally here and there. We kept in touch after high school a bit, and the last time I saw him was at the funeral of another guy we went to school with.

I remember talking to Kyle, catching up with what was going on with his life. I remember telling him how I couldn't believe the circumstances that had allowed us to see each other again, but that I was so happy to be able to see him. I spoke to his mom and dad and emailed him a few times after that. When I got the call, I couldn't believe it - and still can't. It didn't make sense and I was angry at him for so long for making a few bad decisions here and there. But I shouldn't have blamed him - who could've known?

I remember being fairly numb at his memorial and really wanting to say something but not being able to stand up. And fearing I might throw up if I tried to speak. I've seen his mom a few times since, and have never quite been able to get the right words to tell her how much her son meant to me. I've always wanted to write her a letter, but I never knew if that was improper etiquette, or if it was too painful or just not a good idea.

I miss that guy so much still. He shows up in my dreams occasionally, and I often mistake other people who look like him. I can't believe that "It's Kyle!" runs through my head when this happens, but I guess I still can't believe he's gone.

I know Kyle made some poor choices, but I am so confident that I'm going to see Kyle again some day. Can't wait.

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