"He hasn't been the same since the accident."
"What accident?"
"His friend died a couple weeks ago in a car accident."

The start of my shaking, stammering, stuttering, uncontrollable fits of silence and blubbering. I really didn't know how affected I was from last year. She said that, complaining about how this guy wasn't acting right ever since it happened. His friend died while he was on the phone with her. Drunk driving. WTF.

I silently spazzed. My knees went up, feet on the seat, arms went around them and pulled tight. I tried to say something about how different people became when friends or family died. About how a whole town was devastated by 5 deaths, one in particular, last year. About how people go seemingly -insane- when good friends die. Guilt plagues them, drugs save them. *shudder* And it took me a good 30 minutes to say it.

Finally, I managed to tell her what Cat said, a month later when he was drunkenly honest: "You saved my life. Just by being there every day, making me laugh, making me get out and do stuff, you saved me. I would've shot myself if you weren't there."

Two sentences that have stuck with me where countless others haven't. The moment of absolute clarity and dread when I staggered up the stairs and screamed- no, shrieked, my voice wasn't working- for my mom so I could gasp and cry on her shoulder. The funeral; people lined up across the parking lot to get in, the team's face as they stood at the door- some crying, some turning away, one or two standing with faces so blank you know they're struggling inside.

Visting Josh in the hospital; the joking and smiles to hide what -we- knew they were hiding. Me and Dana walking away to give the guys some privacy. That first glimpse where you'd never know he was paralyzed- he looked so normal.

Can I ever fully describe to you the horror of watching someone you care for go insane because they are helpless to rewind time? The only measure of comfort is the weed and alcohol that promises blessed oblivion?

I tried to explain, but words failed- I think silence expressed more. That, and the huddled form sitting on her passenger seat, shaking with unexpressed emotion- I think that spoke leagues.

It's something that I obviously have not gotten over, no matter how much I thought I had. I simply hope her friend is okay, and she realizes the right thing to do is to be empathetic; be funny when they're feeling down, but listen when they need you to. Drag them out on a walk, and laugh and caper around them to show them that there are still things good in this world, not everything needs to be suppressed.

shit... I'm fucking it up again. It realy comes down to this: I can talk my head off about how much it hurts when people you care for die, but you can't know the beginnings of it unless it happens to you.

RIP JR. Best of Luck in FL, JL.