(no subject)

so i woke up late as usual, caught up on lj, cried a bit (i feel silly, and i'm not sure if i can say i knew him more or less than the last two friends of mine who died), kicked the computer for having such a shitty internet connection, and visited sarah.

i made salmon for their dinner, and we had it with her dad's lots-of-bean-and-stuff soup. she and her mom and i went out to buy a graduation present and then we went to baskin robbins for ice cream. mmmmmm. chocolate chip cookie dough and mint chocolate chip with caramel and whipped cream on top. sarah flopped on me when we got back home, and the feeling was so close to (and yet not quite) the cuddling i've been missing that it almost hurt. but then lots of things have almost hurt today.

like i said, i don't know if sebastian was even a flesh-and-blood person, but that ambiguity doesn't mean he didn't affect people. there was just ...too much of him, i guess, that it seemed like it couldn't have been contained in an actual human being. regardless of whether his journal is fiction or an autobiography, it was a very good story, with the sort of horrid, senseless ending that is usually confined to real life. at least they're both gone, instead of one left feeling like half of himself. the coldly logical side of me says that an author had to end it now, because in less than two weeks from sebastian's last entry, he didn't have the excuse for not putting pictures up anymore. the sebastian i see has bright red tousled hair, and has been caught by surprise as he turned towards the camera. he is glowing from the afternoon sun behind him. and he's laughing. i wonder how many people are on his friends of list? he kept that hidden...
this was the beginning, but the end was only the middle.

anyway, now i get to figure out how to get in touch with keith.

(no subject)

He took my hand, or I took his, and we started walking, idly reading the gravestones, sometimes stopping when something catches our attention, like if the person was only a baby or they died really young or around our age. There were husband-and-wife graves, and he saw one that was really sad but sweet. "Look, they died within days of each other." And they did indeed. We stood in front of their graves for a while. Then so softly I almost didn't hear it, he said, "If you die I die." At first I thought he was reading another stone, but when I realized that he was talking to me I was... overwhelmed. I hugged him tightly, because the thought of him dying was horrible, and I felt like I was going to cry. "Then I'm not going to," I said, kissing the side of his neck. "Okay," he said.

it's easier with printed books, because you can tell you're getting to the end, and brace yourself accordingly.