I've been on the verge of crushed the last few days. Kinda like I should only be speaking in whispers. Sitting next to the open window, my feet underneath me, staring out at the black. The cold air floats in and the howling wind tries to snap me out of this, but it doesn't work for long. A few minutes of distraction here and there and then I'm back to thinking about her.

I met her (and I can't lj-username this one, 'cause she used a name token a long time ago, but I knew her back before she was even _cinnamongirl_) when she was:


darcie1973

Yeah, early, early animation days. Days gone by. Days of fucking yore, ya know?

When we were both



And God, we're talkin' '03. '03 when we started sharing our love for blood and pretty boys and pain. '03 when I said:

I find myself curious... about how we fit into each other's lives... if we do at all? -smiling softly- Don't stroke my ego, don't tell me what you think I want to hear... but tell me if there's some way you see me, or if there's some reason you read my journal... or hell, even if you normally gloss over it on your way to something marginally more interesting. -grinning- Tell me why... why you're on my friend's list... what way, if any, we do fit together. I have my own opinions on how I feel that we do... every single one of you - well -tipping my head- I can say most of you. Some of you are very new to me and so it's harder to answer that... but please, bluntly, honestly... tell me how you think we mesh, yeah?

-smiling- Thanks for indulging me.

And she said:

how did i find you? through the no-longer existent journal of sectretfetish many, many moons ago, and i friended you because your entries intrigued me. i stayed around, and friended you through my primary journal because i started paying less attention to my icon journal, and i didn't want to lose you.

you left such lovely comments whenever i posted icons, and your entries were (are!) always lyrical, and it made me smile to see how much you cared for your friends. and i thought, well, how lucky would i be if i could be one of them?

And that's the fucking rub... the thing about my friends (real life or otherwise). I always wander away. I'm prone to it by nature. I'm one of those people that cares... cares deeply, but I still fucking VANISH. Disappear. And Jesus. I want to believe she knew how much I cared about her. That of all the people on the old journal I didn't take with me... her I kept, ya know? Even if I wasn't there for years on end, I _thought_ about her. I cared about her. I _loved_ her. The ones I took with me... I loved. I love you all.

This is my second friend to commit suicide now. And it's tearing me apart. I wasn't there enough and that's okay, 'cause I know this isn't about me. She had good friends, ya know? Lots of 'em. Wherever Sherrie went, she made an impact, God love her. So I know it has nothing to do with me... but I want to reach out to her, to that night. Take it back. Rewind it all. I want to be there for her at that moment, 'cause ya know... sometimes we all have those hard nights when things are just unbearable and we can't see the dawn for all the black. I want to be the voice in the night that sees her through. I want her to come out the other side and be okay. Happy endings for us all.

But I can't undo what's done. Maybe I couldn't even if I was there (and no, I don't want reassurances... that's not what this is about). But I want to say this to all of you:

If you're suffering and you need someone, if the middle of the night finds you and you're desperate and angry or hurting... and you're feeling like you've had enough... try to find me. I know, I'm terrible. I'm honest to goodness terrible. Impossible to get in email, improbable to get on messenger, and unlikely to get on the phone, but seriously. If you NEED me... honest to God need _someone_ you send me a quick email with the header: URGENT: or YIM (vjenniferv) me with a mayday and I'll do what I can. Seriously. If it's a time of crisis and you're thinking the world is better off without you... get a hold of me. 'Cause it's not... and together we can see the sunrise. For real.

I am 23 kinds of fucked up right now. I'm not looking for hand-out sympathy... just trying to make it known to everyone... everyone who can see, everyone who stops by... anyone, whether we know each other or not. If you can't make it, you contact me. I'll do whatever I can.

Sherrie, I loved you. You were a beautiful, brilliant star... shining in the distance. I won't ever forget your kisses, your hugs, your stunning creativity, your passion, your verve, your ... light. I miss you. You always wanted to be remembered and the Internet has been alive with nothing but your name... I'll be carrying you with me.

I feel you with me. Like you're right at my shoulder, standing at my back, and I fucking miss you.

I still message you. Call me crazy, but I sit there waiting... hoping that one of these days I'll see your username in the corner, you know, like you're sitting there writing me back. Like it was all some sort of cruel joke that eventually I'll forgive you for.

I wanted to save you, little sister. I wanted you to see the world that waited... and oh, God, it was so close. If you reached out, you were almost touching all the possibility beyond. Not only were you gifted and talented and interesting, you were a good person, filled with love and passion and imagination. There are too many days I count that I can't believe you didn't hang on.

Today you'd be out. Today you'd be complaining about your first year in college. Today... today. And Christ do I miss you, Recca.

Two years ago I wrote these words:

She was beautiful. When I say she was beautiful, I mean she was radiant... I considered her an angel, even before she became one. She was brilliant. The way she wrote at fifteen years old would have stunned any critic or college entrance committee. She could have gone anywhere, I guarantee you... she was bound for far, far better things. She could have attended any Ivy League school she desired, taken the world by absolute storm. This was my Recca.

I would have given Recca anything. When she decided to leave her home for Chicago I made certain she kept in very close contact. If things didn't work out there, I offered her a place in my home. You see, Recca was the daughter I'd never have. Recca was the daughter I always wished I'd had... how the world could have abused her in the ways it did, I'll never understand. What she deserved was good... she deserved love and attention and success and happiness. She deserved it all... but got none of it and now it's too late.

I'm sorry it came too late, love. I'm sorry it came at such a cost. I'm sorry I wasn't able to save you, because God knows, I think about you all the time. I would have done anything, I should have done more... I wish I had.

I'll let my last words then be my finale:

Be well, my little love. May the stars and the universe look after you now, and may you float free and understand the things that we do not... and may you always remember the part of my heart you took with you on your journey.

I'll light a candle for you on the 11th.