eulogy for a friend

i found out today that leslee died. it’s wholly surreal, and deeply unfair. she was a sister to me, though i never articulated it in so many words. she was there through so many foundational periods of my life, she was a constant that i sometimes took for granted, though i realize how heartless it sounds in typing it out, but i knew she would always be there for me, and she always was.

we loved each other in the way that only two non-white kids from a poor neighborhood can love each other. we bonded over our upbringings, the shit we were exposed to far too young, the stubbornness of our parents, our fear that we wouldn’t amount to anything, the anxieties of realizing that we’d amount to more than the people who came before us, and what kind of responsibility that instilled into us. we embodied platonic love, the kind fashioned from decades of experience. i realize now that we knew each other for twenty years.

it’s so fucked. 20 years was not long enough, but would 40 years have been long enough? or 60? there is an infinitude contained within each of us, and we had the great honor of being overlapping infinities for a little while. she has returned to the unbeing that we all spring from, as i one day will. eventually we will know each other again, not in face or in voice, but in simple essence.

i don’t think anything comes after, but the thought of one day being dispersed across eternity with one i care for so deeply, who is so fundamental to my own self, spinning in cosmic dance until the universe itself winds down, brings me some solace. i know you aren’t really gone, not forever. none of us are. but your absence in the now still leaves a void that will never quite be filled. i’m so sorry we didn’t get the time to make more memories together.

once, as kids, we were in downtime monterey for a friend’s birthday. we wandered away from the main group for an hour or so and found an art gallery on the wharf, tucked away from the more touristy shops. she pointed it out to me and i, having never noticed it before, suggested we go in. so we did, and found a perfectly quaint little gallery with no one inside. we spent that time talking and joking with the owner, admiring the art, laughing about how we had ditched all our friends. it was a small, ultimately inconsequential diversion, but it stuck with both of us, and we cherished that memory fondly for years after. that’s how I will always remember her: laughing, curious, adventurous, willing to take the time to step back and admire the things that people didn’t always see.

i will never forget you leslee. little sister. best friend. puma pal. <3