It’s been three years since my friend, Mike, died of an overdose. It seems like yesterday, sort of. I still see him everywhere. I still sort of look for him everywhere. I don’t know why, really. I know he’s not coming back. But there’s just this place in my heart for him that’s always going to be his. There’s always going to be a place in my soul that won’t be able to understand why some things work out the way they do.
I remember getting to the point at about a year sober and thinking, “I didn’t get sober to watch people die.” And like every seesaw of life, for every person I’ve watched get sober and regain confidence and find a new life, there have had to be some tragedies. I guess it’s just the way it all works. Balance. I thank God it’s not an equal balance. And honestly, even with the people that left, Daphney and Chance and Georg and Dave and Silent Bob and all the rest, I just didn’t feel the same as I did with Mike. Maybe I was too early in sobriety to have full-on feelings. Maybe it just wasn’t the same.
I don’t know. But this one was different. He was a close friend. I miss him. That’s for sure. I have to rest in the knowledge that wherever he is, he’s in peace. The following video was not public for awhile, but I thought I’d share it with you, because I think it sums up my thoughts pretty well. I think I made it private because it was too sad, too raw. But you know, I think I owe Mike at least that … the reality of the fact that I love him and I miss him and I just wish it wasn’t that way. In the video, I had just woken up to the news, so I’m not exactly tip-top appearance wise, but the words are still right.