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Once again I apologize, I should be getting back on to a more regular posting schedule. Two weeks ago today my cousin was murdered. She was my best friend and the person I trusted most in the world. I’ve spoken to her a couple of times since her death, in fact so has most of the family. At least those of us who embrace the woo woo.

She wasn’t afraid to die. For people like us death isn’t some scary unknown thing. I know, down to my core, that this was her choice. That this was a decision made at a spirit level, and I think I even know when it changed and entered her field.

I know that she will always be there if I need her. I don’t worry about the fact I can’t pick up the phone because I no longer need a phone. I do mourn the loss of the activities we would do, or would have done together. For instance every year on my birthday we would go our for Indian food, and I know she would have come to Key West for Fantasy Fest.

One of the things I am having the hardest time with is that there isn’t anybody I know who would understand the way I see this.  Who understands the way I view the world. There are members of my family who might, but they are too deep in their own grief and anger to be able to understand why I’m, well I don’t know what I am.

The one thing I do know is that we have to keep moving forward. We have to just let the pieces lie on the round and just keep walking. Otherwise we stop living too.

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