Roughly six months ago someone who I love very much, Andy, passed away suddenly. A few days ago, another High School companion, Bill, took his own life.

I went to the funeral today.

While I love everyone unconditionally (even my ex and the fake broad he’s banging), there are very few people who I interact with in a “friendship” sense. The ones that do fill that space stick.

The combination of me being a gypsy and my mother being somewhat temperamental, most of the history from my younger years was thrown away long ago. I don’t have trinkets from my childhood or boxes of pieces from years gone by.

I do however, have a photo book. As soon as I learned of Bill’s passing, I opened my photo book to a picture of the two of us in the High School courtyard, arms around each other.

I hope the rest of our cult will join me sending all of the love you can muster to all of the loved ones Bill leaves behind – because that’s who ends up suffering. While I had not interacted with my friend for too many years, there are very few people from my teens who I even choose to acknowledge.

Losing two of these people in six months has me twisted in an ineffable sense of surreal. It’s re-educating me about what matters. Love to you and yours Bill. I know how hard this planet is, I am sorry it managed to steal you away from us.