I haven’t stopped crying yet.  I am not even sure I can.  I am starting to think its no longer under my control.

Yesterday, the world lost someone great.  She didn’t win a noble prize or cure disease.   But she did change peoples lives.  She changed my life.  Everyone who knew her will feel a little less complete today.  A little less like themselves.  I feel like a big piece of my soul has been cut out.  But that’s okay, as long as its with her, I know its in a good place.

I feel unjustified hurting this much.  Ross, he’s so strong and I am a mess.  Stocker keeps telling me that we were family and that what I am going through is normal.  But I look at Ross, and she was his everything.  I have never seen two people that loved each other more than the two of them.  They were without a doubt the greatest people I know and the best influence I have had in my life.

They taught me about true friendship – they always seemed to have time for me despite the battles they faced in their own life.  I hope Ross knows and Maz knew how special they are to me.

Perhaps Stocker is right.  Perhaps this deep, black sense of loss is justified.

The worst part is we knew it was coming…. I knew it was coming.   I was talking about it yesterday with the people at work, around the time she passed.  I thought I held it together really well.  It was only early this morning as I lay in bed unable to sleep, I realized I held it together because I didn’t want to believe it was happening.  She had come though so many things – worse that this, you just want to believe that another miracle was going to happen and you were going to get a text from her.  Knowing, being able to prepare, doesn’t make this any easier.  How do you prepare for something like this?  Tell yourself things will be alright?  That the sun will come up tomorrow?  That she isn’t living in pain any longer?  All those things are true, but they are also bullshit when you have lost someone so special.   You can’t prepare for this.  Knowing doesn’t make it easier.  The pain is the same and I think this has taught me you can’t escape it.  Maz is the closest person I have lost in this life.   And I can tell you all the clichés are true.  When people say they felt numb, sick?  I felt all that… When people say there is a process to grieving, that its done in stages?  Its true, it is… don’t ask me which stage I am at – I don’t know, the fucked up stage?

I am not glad this has happened, but I am glad Ross was there with her.  That she knew she was so deeply loved and cared for.  I am glad she was at peace and that she was ready.  I am glad that I knew her, because I wouldn’t be the person I am without her influence.  I am glad she was in my life for as long as she was and I am glad woke up to myself in time.  I had a revelation about true friendship… non-biological family is probably a better way to put it, about a year ago I suppose.  In such a busy world its so easy to get caught up and say “I don’t have time”.  Marion and Ross made me realize, there are people you make time for.  And I can honestly say – I am so glad I made time to spend with Maz.  I am glad I just sat with her, listened to her stories or talked shit.  I am glad I didn’t make excuses when it came to spending time with them – because it was always a happy, enjoyable time.  I am so glad I didn’t realize who and what was important too late.  That was the last (of many) lessons that Maz taught me it was also the most precious.

So today I have stayed home to cry and reflect… to just let myself be sad.   Because tomorrow I have to rejoin the world as much as I don’t want to.  I don’t want to rejoin it because it wont be the same knowing she’s no longer in it.

I think the only thing working to pull me out of this black hole is Ross.  Knowing Ross is still here with us and that whatever I am feeling he must be feeling times a billion.  He is the greatest man I have met in my life – it seems only fitting he was married to the greatest woman.  I would give a piece of myself to put them back together.

Today I try to say goodbye to Marion – but my clumsy words are inadequate to express the burden of my heart.