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Eleven Years.

March 28, 2012

Eleven years. Geez. 16 years old. Geez.

It’s weird…it isn’t pain. At one point it was pain. I clearly remember the events of the 29th and, perhaps, historically that should be the rougher anniversary. But….it’s just sadness – for how very young he was. I mean, had he lived, I bet today he wouldn’t even have remembered the pain that caused him to shoot his heart out. It would’ve been a far distant memory muted by the many, many joys of the past 11 years.

So very sad.

The other odd thing is the detachment I feel. I am more in turn with high school Whitney. I remember her and, in many ways, am still her. So it’s not as much a detachment as the Whitney of my childhood – but…I don’t know. It’s difficult to articulate. Matt probably wouldn’t have been a part of my life at all any more. I guess we’d be Facebook friends, you know? But – he’s a guy who was once a part of my life and has, in many ways, profoundly altered my path – but….there’s just this difference between who he was and his influence on my life. And – yes, sadness, but no longer pain.

The tragedy pf young deaths has so shaped my life, I have no clue who I’d be right now if none of these people died. Where I’d be. What I’d be doing. Who I’d be doing it with – you know?

External events bomb into our life and we go with them – or sit there in misery. Okay that is being incredibly simplistic, but give me this today.

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