I'm almost ashamed to say this, but I want to think that enough time has passed by that the time to be sad is done. I was watching a dance routine tonight about a woman who lost a friend of hers too soon and of course it made me think of you. It made me think about how as artists, we paint death in so many different shades, we shape it and mold it until it creates a portrait that heals the broken pieces inside our hearts. The picture we paint sometimes doesn't even measure up to the truth, but in our hearts it is the truth. It heals us, makes up whole...it makes it so that the good days outnumber the bad. I painted my picture of your death in a book I wrote four years ago. It was no where near what you went through, but it healed some of my broken pieces. It hurt at the time, oh God how it hurt, but it made me so much better.
That being said, it doesn't mean that I don't think about you from time to time because I do. I wonder where you are and if your happy. I hope you are, I hope where ever you are, life is beautiful and you are happy.
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