{meliologie} {ivyologie}

...and no where for it to go.

I found out this past weekend that a family friend of mine, who I considered a brother, passed away. He committed suicide. He was 40 years old. He was found DAYS after the incident in a house that he was sharing with his uncle. His uncle was also dead from stab wounds.

The newspapers are jumping to the conclusion that he killed his uncle. Well, my brother was a felon. (but thats a whole 'nother story) But he wouldn't do that. I've seen him crazy as all get out and he wouldn't do that.

I had a feeling when he left California that I wouldn't see him again. I just sang him happy birthday on his cell phone two weeks ago. I wish he would have picked up. I miss him. He used to call me "baby girl." And I gave the "best hugs."

I "told" him that he had better not show up in my dreams, and if he wanted to like... communicate that it had better be to my face. In daylight, preferably. I've been crying on and off. I hate crying... and I hate people knowing I'm crying.

I found out this info last weekend while at Palm Springs with my FSIL, FMIL, FGMIL, a friend and her mom. Not my mom... not my Ben. I got a call, and asked my mom if she knew why my other "brother" was calling me. She had a big long pause. I was like.. "what?" (I was secretly hoping he was calling cause he was gonna score me some race tickets or something GOOD...heh). She just said. "Harvey died." She told me that he shot himself. I was like..."Uh. That sucks." Because I didn't know what to say. She said, "I just didn't feel like putting on clothes and going over to tell you." I said, "MOM! I'm in Palm Springs." She had totally forgot.

We are all broken up about it. I miss him a lot.

But I know he's around. I felt him in Palm Springs. Ben kinda saw him tonight. I'm lucky. He's around.