Losing a friend The Funny Nanny

TFN’S DIARY: When You Lose Your Person

It was, I believe, 1999. I was almost 12 year old and I was one of those obnoxious kids. You know those preteens you just wish to smack in the face and you pray you will never have kids like that? Yup. That’s me.

One of the neighbors said new girl moved to our neighborhood and I should show her around.

I remember walking up the hill to my home and I saw her. She had straight dirty blonde hair, pink backpack and black leggings. Years later we were still joking about that, because no one wore leggings then. She was fashion oblivious, she didn’t care what others did, she just knew what she likes.

We walked, we talked. We lived 4 houses away from each other and since that fall day for 3 years we were inseparable. One week we would sleep at her house where her dad would make crepes and we had hot chocolate with whipped cream every night. We would listen mix-tape and record our voice on her brand new stereo – it could record your voice on a tape, can you imagine that?

We had boys sneak into her room through the window and we would laugh, and be silly and have “parties”. We were innocent, and those boys in our room were equally uninterested in those things as we were, if you know what I mean.

Week after, we would stay at my house where my mom would cook and we would sing, make lists of activities, making tents and go on adventures.

She moved away when it was high school time and we were not seeing each other ever day. Yes, at that time we had cellphone and computers, but we sent each other letters every week. I still have box full of 4 years worth of letters.

Remember those Russian (pardon my not PC words) lesbian singers that sang All The Things She Said and Not Gonna Get Us? I was Yulia and she was Lena. It was our thing.the funny nanny grief

We grew up, we moved, we had boyfriends, breakups, boyfriends, breakups. We gained weight, lost weight. Partying, skipping school, making mistakes, overeating at 3 am, drooling over Channing Tatum in “She’s The Man” and imagining how one day we will have all the money and go to Miami to see house of Enrique Iglesias.

As it turned out, I came to U.S. I got what I needed and she got the best job in the world. She was happy and so was I. Our emails and Skype sessions were still strong and I knew she was my friend. She was the friend.

We had phases over years when we would get angry at each other. Her first kiss when she was 16 was the guy I was crazy about. His nickname was Milka and he grew up to be disgusting, we joked about that too.

As life went on, we had different lives, friends and ideals, but we were still besties. I never thought in deep about how I feel about her, or how much she means to me. She was the part of my life and I loved her, regardless of how different we were.

May 2014, Tuesday it was, I came home after 2.5 years in U.S. She was on a business trip, but we planned following Monday to go on a 5 day trip to Croatian coast and maybe even Italy.

sad, depressed, grief

 

She died on Friday.

What then? What now?

I am not handling emotions very well. I often joke about her being dead. Burst in tears over nothing. Force myself to pretend she never existed. Force myself to hang out with people and meet new friends. I don’t talk about her. I don’t think about her. How can I move on knowing she loved life so much and it’s taken from her, and here I am? She deserved happiness more than I ever will.

 

I am happy, my life is good, but what now? Who do I have now?

Among all the other people, now more than ever I can see it, she was the only one that I knew completely and absolutely she will never leave. I have other friends, but she was the one I knew will stay in my life regardless of fights, problems, changes in our lives, distance and everything else.

I don’t have that anymore, and I’ve been struggling to let other people in my life.

I don’t have friends. I hate people. I hate hanging out. I hate it all.

Life will pass, years go by and I will meet new people.

But there is no one else who was there for every part of my last 15 years. She was the only who experienced it with me, who could compare those years and experiences with this life. With her I didn’t have to have intro and explain my vocabulary, my expressions, my stories. She knew it all. I was the angry, depressed, wild one, and she was the smiley, silly, funny, always happy Suzie that refused to stop liking butterflies and orange color.

She refused to let fucked up life ruin her and I miss her.

I hate that all the major changes in my life happened since she is gone, and I want her to know. I want her to see. I want her to be proud of me. I want her to come back. I am just tired of her not being here. I am tired of forcing other friendships and acting like it’s all cool. It’s not cool. She is gone. friends the funny nanny

 

Today she would be 27. I would send her some silly, weird gift and we would Skype. She would wear her blue hoodie that she had for years and always wore and she would laugh and flap her arms like crazy.

She would tell me all about her guy and how happy she is, and I would tell her about Dan and new job and how my hair is getting too long.

We would hang up and exchange few messages until next time we both catch time to talk. And even if months went by, she would still know she is my person. I would still know she is my person.

I would still send her new photos and details about how many times baby puked on me today, and she would respond with .hahahaha zivot je lijep!! as she always repeated Life is beautiful.

I guess it is. It still is.

It’s just empty without you.