We’re All Friends Here

People die and it sucks.

I’m 36 at the time of this post, and that’s quite young, but I’m no stranger to friends my own age passing away. 2 year ago my best friend from high school died in the middle of the night unexpectedly. I’ve written here about Jean, a friend from EQ2 who died from suicide.  Over the years people I’ve known, people I’ve loved, have passed on. It doesn’t get any easier to deal with and it doesn’t get any less awkward to talk about but I wanted to talk about it today anyway because it’s one of those things that’s important to me.

It’s important that my friends know how much they mean to me. Even those I have never met in person. On twitter, on facebook, on discord, on G+, any place we may have interacted, I truly do care. I may not always get a lot of time to show it, and you may not even think I know who you are, but if we’ve interacted, chances are I do. I do know who you are. I spent a lot of time quietly observing the happenings from a distance. If you need something I’ll be there to the best of my abilities.

This post is spurred on by learning that Zach Best passed away a few days ago. I didn’t know him personally. I only knew him through his writing as Ravious over at Kill Ten Rats.

Sypster over at BioBreak has a post about it too and how he met Zach back in 2011 at a blogger breakfast, something I have always wanted to do but as of yet have not.

It reminds me again that life is fragile. That we need to embrace the happiness we have. That we need to show people every single day that we care, that they’re important, that their life matters to us.

Just some thoughts this morning.

1 Response to We’re All Friends Here

  1. Shai says:

    This is a very touching entry. I’m sorry to hear someone else you know has passed on… We’re the same age and I have lost a few people already too… The valedictorian of my high school class (car accident), an ex boyfriend (brain aneurysm), an ex coworker (diabetes), and family members… It’s tough and you’re right that life is fragile. So long as we remember them, they aren’t really gone.

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