Yourself?

thanks dear
*hug!*
I was just looking at her photos, photos of happier times, of me crashing her class, of her posing with friends, of her model photos in the papers, of the photos I took of her in my mind.

And it's hard to believe she died. I suppose there's always proof that she existed, but all the proof I have indicates that she's living, the photos of happier times. She'll always be happy in the photo.

And then I thought about life, and death, in my bathtub, where I wouldn't have to worry about where the water came from, and photography, and like all things, saw that it was both beautiful and sad. Beautiful because it is a moment in time, sad also because it only IS a moment in time.

I cried. (not that it would have helped, but its a human reaction really)

But cried for what.

The loss of a potentially beautiful life. The loss of a friend that cheered me up when I was feeling down over changing schools. The feeling that she'll always be the same in the photos, that there will be no more photos after that day, no more continuation of growth, no photos of her getting married, having kids, being a grandma. I cried because she was a fellow human, and a really really good human.

I suppose I see life differently now. I suppose her friends see life differently now. Life to me is taking more photos, is enjoying every moment, is holding on to the friends I have. Because definitely, one day, each of my friends will go. I will go. And the photos would survive as proof of our existence.

posted by Downhere. @ 12:39 am