I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to figure out how to introduce, how to begin, how to start-because, as many of us know, once we have the first push, paddling down a river doesn’t seem to be so hard. I hadn’t realized that the introduction to an end would be the hardest. I made up my mind to take that pencil to that paper and be the kind of girl that Kyle knew me to be. So, I sat down but the words wouldn’t come and I asked why wouldn’t they? But, there was no use in hiding it for me, hiding it from him. I knew more than well why they wouldn’t come. It was because my feelings weren’t right. I couldn’t write goodbye when I still couldn’t believe that he wasn’t just away on a long vacation, an early departure to Israel, and he was the one who couldn’t or wouldn’t say goodbye because he was the one who wasn’t ready. I was trying to let go but inside I was holding on to the biggest sin of all. I was trying to say the truth, to say it clean, when deep down I knew it would be a lie. So, I was empty of words and full of trouble and I didn’t know what to do. So, I got to thinking-what justification, what story, what words could I write to let people know that we are all okay. But somehow, I couldn’t seem to strike the right stone, I couldn’t and it was because I was still choking on the call I got on March 31, I was still spitting up lies to prolong the truth. And so I began to act with my conscious rather than my heart. I began to imbibe the truth, force it down my throat but no sooner did that happen would I regurgitate it back up. Again, I imbibed and again I regurgitated and so forth till I realized that I would never understand if I didn’t let go. I would never be able to remember Kyle if I didn’t let time imbue the saturated, the drained, the hell, and the bliss. So, I gave up on acceptance. I took my breath and stopped gazing within but turned and stood looking out. I saw all these people who were just as lost. I started remembering and soon enough we all started remembering.
Kyle and I became close. We were attached by something I haven’t had enough time to understand, and I find that people want to be remembered for how they have contributed to individuals, to communities, and I can’t imagine what other person than Kyle would want to be remembered. So, I thought, of course he will be remembered, look at how many people he has touched, but then, it became unimportant. What was and still is needed by a community that has suffered such a tragic, such a blinding loss is to accept and to remember. We must accept because people will augment the good and they will diminish the bad, they will bleat the truth and deflate the fights but no matter who, we will all have to remember that pain is universal, that pain doesn’t pick and choose only the family and only the closest friends. We must remember because Kyle was human, Kyle was flawed, Kyle was stubborn, but for the lucky one’s of us we were exposed to Kyle’s dangerous, truthful, exceptional radiation. We must remember because Kyle deserves to be written in our history as do all of us who have passed, as do all of us who are still alive with truth.
Years ago, Kyle didn’t just introduce himself into my life, he imposed himself. That boy took me and studied every piece of me so that I soon began to realize he had begun to understand and predict me better than did my own parents. And for me, I began to criticize. For a while, I felt an overbearing guilt, a shame that lodged itself to become a part of who I was to him. Before I swore to never forgive myself, I understood. When we love, we expose out hatred because we don’t want to be vulnerable, we don’t want to be naked, alone, in front of the clothed.
So, instead of sharing what events caused him to call me his sister, his friend, I ask you all to see one another now and continue to share your stories but refuse to dwell on them. Rather, allow yourself to feel sad but also allow yourself to be okay. For right now, we are all vulnerable, we are all naked.
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