In Repair.

I returned to work last Saturday (after calling put the day of Marie's memorial)and am now in the mist of holiday shoppers and the suckassness of retail during xmas.




To be honest work, even though i hate it, has been the distraction i need right now. Helping frantic customers, calming down mentally unstable employees and ignoring a certain boy I use to have a crush on, has helped keep my sadness at bay. I am holding up as best as I can after the loss of my best friend. I've had several mini breakdowns at work, gotten into a very regrettable screaming match with Sean (which I will re-tell in detail after Christmas) and wore a skirt the other day (the first time in years) because....I wanted a change.

I've been on auto-pilot these last few days. My emotions are sort of all over the place and to prevent a complete and utter breakdown I, for now, am putting on a very brave face. If you only knew how bad Saturday was, you would understand why this is necessary.


When I say I got into a screaming match with Sean, I really mean, that I was a total and utter bitch to him when he tried to console me about 'the death in my family'. When I walked in on Saturday, everyone knew that I called out because someone very important to me died. No one knew, knows, the extent of the loss but nonetheless I was the topic of much discussion that day. "something is wrong with beckett", "she's not the same" "I wonder what's wrong?"

And I sort of expected this. I am usually very bubbly, affectionate and talkative at work. But Saturday I spent most of the day withdrawn and off to the side. I was polite but distant and my face sort of wore the weight of my depression. A lot of people asked what was wrong and I answered 'i got some bad news from home, but I'm doing okay. I promise". And for some that was enough. For others though, it was sort of a mission to dig the truth out of me and i finally admitted to one co-worker (a friend of sorts) that my best friend, took her life, and that i wasn't holding up well.

After giving me a hug and letting me cry on his shoulder he ran to Sean (who i spent the day avoiding) and told him why I was upset. The moment he found out, he hounded me the rest of my shift. He wanted to pull me in for a hug, and have me talk about what was ailing me, he asked if i was mad at him, and that he wanted to fix whatever was bothering me. Yadda, Yadda, Yadda.

But of course, any attempt for him to console me, was weeks too late. I did come to him when I thought Marie was missing to ask for his advice and he told me to 'do what i did before I knew her". He disregarded my concerns because he didn't know her and doesn't care enough about me as a friend to give a shit about what goes on with me outside of work. He proved then and there that he isn't a true friend of mine or someone I ever want to associate with or come to for anything. And when he was bugging me on Saturday to come to him, I lost it.

I fucking screamed at him (in the receiving part of our store, far far far away from customers). I told him that he couldn't help and that I didn't need him to console me. That i felt like shit and that I did not care to come to him for anything ever. I don't think I have ever been that mad and then mean to someone in my whole entire life. Anger is not a part of who i am, but i must admit that I am full of it these days and i am taking it out on people i tried to confide in who turned me away.

He has never seen that side of me also. And before I could even utter a 'i'm fucking pissed but i didn't mean to blow up at you like that' i heard him walk away. We didn't speak the rest of the day. His face burned read the rest of the shift. I apologized on Sunday, because while grief has brought out anger in me I don't wish to make anyone feel bad. But that doesn't mean I am not disappointed in him or myself for ever wanting him to be something he can't. I still can't get over the fact that I want nothing to do with Sean now. I don't want to talk to him, or hug him or listen to his dumb stories. I want to do what I did before I knew him....I want to exist and go one making connections to people who care about me. And that excludes him.

No one seems to understand that the girl I was before Marie died will never exist again. Sure I will find myself back to the stable happy,bubbly, optimistic girl that I was. That is a given. I will grow older and make friends and be passionate about writing and taking pictures and hugging cute boys. I will exist and go on and cope with my pain because I have people and things to live for. But at the same time, I will feel Marie's absence forever. From time to time I will want to call her and tell her how I am doing. I will want to hear her laugh and recount stories from our youth. I will contemplate why she decided to leave and if there was anything I could have done. But foremost, I will go on living with that constant regret that she isn't here to experience it with me.

Her death has changed me. I feel different. Numb. Broken. Sent out for Repair. I am a walking, talking, seemingly functioning human being who is faking it to the world. I smile and nod and pretend to care because the people around me need me to be the 'former beckett'. The one who hasn't been altered by the death of her friend. They don't need the sad, sullen Beckett. They don't want to know how I am holding up because they know the truth will make them sad too.

And for the most part, putting on the brave face is something I'm okay with doing during this holiday rush. But come Monday I know i will once again be face to face with my own grief and I am terrified by this road to healing. It is necessary but terrifying all the same because I will be left with the 'what happens now' question.

Until then though, Life goes on. I am doing okay, holding up and trying to write as much as I can. A lot of people have stepped up in the friend department and I have been more than grateful for them. I am working tomorrow and Xmas eve and then I am off to my aunts house to spend Christmas with them. Being around my cousin will be good for me. She is darling and inquisitive and made me promise to bake cookies for Santa (i haven't told her yet that i don't know how to bake cookies but we'll figure it out together). She even called yesterday (via begging my aunt) to ask if I was definitely spending Christmas with them. When I said yes, she seemed relieved. Being wanted and needed is comforting, and it is that alone some days that is carrying me through these weeks.

I wanted to wish everyone a happy holiday. I know I've been very depressed lately but your support means a lot. Please enjoy the next few days for me. It will mean the world to me to know that all of you had a very delightful holiday weekend surrounded my friends and family.

~Beckett.

An Unfinished Life.

I made the mistake of going to work yesterday.

I thought after two days of inconsolable crying, insatiable eating and a search for answers regarding Marie's death that I needed to get out of the house. I needed some distraction from the sheer weight of my grief. I spent Wednesday night drafting a letter to her family, explaining how much she meant to me and that I will feel her loss forever. That she will never be replaced but that if I could offer any kind of comfort during this terrible time, I am only a phone call away.


I haven't talked to her family since Tuesday. I want to. I need to. But every time I summon up the courage, I cry. I've cried so much these last few days that I'm getting terrible head pains. I even fucking forgot to eat yesterday. My appetite is endless, I'm compensating I know, but having a full belly is comforting for some reason. My stomach has felt so empty these last few days and food is the only, fleeting, relief. As someone who rarely drinks soda, I have been cradling the bottle (funny, for most people this would be alcohol. me, soda) because the bubbles make me feel full.

Because my appetite has been irregular I can't tell the difference between actual hunger and sorrow hunger (if such a thing exist), and I went the whole day having just consumed two cans of soda and a pretty gross doughnut. I forgot to actually make something for myself to eat. Who forgets to eat. Obviously I am not coping well. I didn't think i'd ever have to go through this form of coping. But I will learn how and it will get easier and I will be strong again. Not today but one day. Until then my appetite is shot to hell.


And I guess this is why I wanted to go to work yesterday. I wanted to attempt get out of bed and away from the hunger and away from the isolation. But I failed miserably.


The moment I walked in everyone knew something was wrong. I carry my emotions on my face and the sadness seeped through. Everyone immediately asked what was wrong: are you pregnant? (I kept clutching my hungry belly, i don't blame this person for asking, though it was not the question i was expecting), Did you break up with your boyfriend? (but i don't have a boyfriend) Did someone beat you up? Did you beat someone up? Can I beat someone up for you? (can you fix a broken heart?purty please).


And this questioning went on my whole shift. My night consisted of 'what's wrong with Beckett' inquiries. I worked, I answered phones, I pretended to be a functioning human being but everyone knew it was all an act. I kept going to the bathroom, every hour it seemed, to cry and would come back with red eyes. My voice quivered a lot. I avoided eye contact. And I fucking forget to eat. I waltz through work like a zombie. I carried Marie in my head and heart all day. I thought about the first time we met (my first day of 7th grade), I thought about prom night and how we attended for two seconds and then got burritos, I thought about how annoying she used to be in movies (she'd talk through the whole damn thing). I thought about our plans for the future which she took to her grave. I thought about my friend, who I'll miss forever.

And while everyone was very concerned for me yesterday they continued (as they should have) to go on with their day. They joked around with one another, made plans for the weekend, complained about life all the while checking in on my every once in a while. And i was jealous and upset and frustrated because just two weeks ago I was one of them, when i didn't know the sheer weight of Marie's hopelessness. What I wouldn't give to be back at the place and time again.

And I am not good with people consoling me. I get terribly emotional and then guilty for burdening them with my ailments. This makes me angry and stubborn. so i push people away who wish to tend to me. I was receptive to some people's attempt of comfort yesterday (i readily accepted hugs and 'i love u, when you are ready to tell me what is wrong, I'm here') but others i refused any sort of comfort from. McAb's mainly.

I unfortunately ran into him just as he (whose real name is Sean) walked in for his shift and the moment he saw me he wanted a hug. But I ignored his request, continued doing what i was doing (looking at the daily assignment sheet) and fought back tears. He called my name again and made a sigh like 'oh you are still being really weird cause you think your friend is missing or some shit'. The sound he made was sheer exasperation, like 'when the hell is she going to get over whatever she is going through'. And grant it save but Blue, no one knows how my search for Marie ended but I didn't want to fucking hug him. I didn't want to be anywhere near him and we he attempted to pull me in for a hug, I nearly became violent.

I don't open up to people much about my life outside of work and I guess my issue and disappointment towards Sean is that when I needed him last week to just listen to my concerns about Marie he told me to 'do what i did before i knew her, move on'. That sentence will play in my mind every time i see him. I know we aren't that close friends, we've rarely hung out outside of work and I couldn't tell you much about his past. I am just one of the many girls he flirts with on a regular basis. I am another chick who helps his ego.

But last week I was looking for a friend in Sean. I put down my own flirty tendencies toward him and simply wanted his opinion. Because I felt Kat was too emotional, and my friend Michelle too unstable. I couldn't go to Blue, then, because he was off working. I went to Sean because he always comes to me for problems and I've been very attentive. And I wanted, needed him, to care enough to listen and be supportive.

And that mother fucker shrugged my concerns off. He didn't know her or didn't care that I thought my best friend was missing (which at the time i thought she was). And when he asked me for a hug yesterday (again in the break room this time), I became so fucking ill. Every bone in my body locked up, i grew rigid and clutched my stomach (which began to hurt) and pulled away from him. But he grabbed my arm anyway (a little to rough for my liking) and asked me what was wrong and that I need to talk to someone about whatever the hell is going on with me, so i pulled away again and backed into a corner and closed my eyes again and told him to go away. "Why won't you talk to me" he kept repeating and all i could do was shake my head. He did leave me alone then, only after someone walked in to the break room for water.

He wouldn't leave me alone after that though. Now sensing that something was wrong, he begged me to talk to him (but i tried and you were no help), that I was being too sad and sullen which was making him miserable (oh, I'm sorry. let me ask you how you are after your best friends shoots herself in her fucking head and leaves a suicide note that resembles a fucking grocery list of what to do once her body after it is found!) that he was there to talk and he would follow me around until i did (can't follow me into the girls bathroom asshole). A part of me wanted to let him know that my gut instinct was right. I wanted to scream and shout at him for being wrong, and for not caring. I wanted to tell him that I KNEW something terrible was wrong with my best friend and I needed him to be some form of support just to make me feel better and he completely disregarded my fears and the thought of him ever touching me again feels like death.

Around 8 o'clock I'd completely lost it. From my frequent bathroom trips where i bawled my eyes out, to dodging concerned co-workers all the while trying to stop myself from vomiting, I called my mom and broke down. I cried loud and hard outside in a corner where no one could see me. I told her that I made a mistake going to work and that I was angry and sad at Marie for what she did and how she felt these last few months. And my mom, who surprisingly kept it together, told me that I have to go through this pain in order to continue living. That maybe I should talk to someone about Marie, about my pain, to take another day to myself to remember her and begin to make peace with life without her.

And the words helped. I cried a little less the rest of the night ( key word: less). Made it through the next two hours of my shift and then cried on the walk home. I never thought I'd join the club of people who'd have to deal with the loss of a loved one by suicide. Especially Marie's. I am literally blindsided by the decision she made to end her life, especially since we spent most of our time talking about the future. About traveling together and meeting boys and settling down and being friends forever. About her being the aunt to my children and the promise she made that if I decided to name my first born daughter Carrick ( i think it's interesting) that she would call her Carrot to taunt me.

This was our year of awesomeness! We talked about getting our acts together and being the secure 20 something year olds ready to take on the world. She wanted to come to New York this summer to visit, I was going to take her to Bleecker Street where all the cute boys roam. I was going to show her a nerdy good time because I knew she needed a nerdy good time.Her act of suicide has all but destroyed those plans and I will forever feel like i am living for two now. I don't know why she thought death was the best alternative. Even when I am in the depths of despair there are things that carry me out of it. My mom, the sound of the wind, sunlight....her. And I can't believe that during her final minutes she couldn't conjure any of that up to stay.

And I am not ashamed of Marie, I am not. But I am struggling to explain her death to people because it was suicide. If she'd die say by cancer or in a car accident or by some crazy homicidal maniac I could place her death on someone else/things shoulder. Instead a part of my grief will forever be marred by anger because she took her life and I am conflicted by feelings of complete and utter grief and anger towards the person i love who decided that that alone wasn't enough to live.

Today is her memorial and I just couldn't make it through work with people asking what was wrong. So I called out and spent the day with my cats. I know the solitude is bad but for today it is necessary. I don't know who I am without Marie. Since I was 12 this girl has been such a huge part of my life. Maybe the problem is that for so long I have felt defined by her existence. She was my voice of reason, my motivator, my link to the past. I told her everything. I shared my ideas with her, I admitted my passions with her and readily ate up her suggestions and critique regarding my writing. Who will understand my lame jokes, who will tease me about liking dudes with square foreheads....who will call my future daughter (years and years from being born) Carrot.


I'm worried that I won't be able to write again (she helped me focus my thoughts). That I won't be able to open up again ( i admitted everything to her). That along with this grief i will carry with me this inability to love anyone as much as I loved her. Because I gave her my all, and that wasn't enough you see.

Despite the friends I have here and the support I am getting from the few people I have let into this personal tragedy no one will ever understand the magnitude of Marie's friendship. She was my soul mate, my kindred spirit and the only person I felt truly connected to. And I'm not saying I won't feel that way again, I'm not saying that independent of her I can't still lead this extraordinary life. I am saying that it will be incredibly hard, and I will miss her dearly and I will continue to try and understand her death even if the clues lead me back to the fact that she depressed and didn't want to handle life anymore.

It's a beautiful day outside, sunny and chilly and the wind is caressing the branches ever so softly and I'll regret that she won't be able to see or find comfort in any of these things anymore. I'm worried that her soul is stuck somewhere and that she hasn't found peace in the afterlife. She didn't believe in god and if he/she does exist that maybe this act does not allow for entry into heaven or the pleasant place in the crevice of the clouds. I'll give up my spot there if that means she can enjoy heaven now.

I want to be the strong one able to deal with this better than I have been but I must admit in these last few days I've wished for someone to help lessen this pain. I feel weak and am achy and numb. I simply want a shoulder to cry on and a hug so tight it eliminates the pain already coursing through me. I have this desire and repulsion to be touched and consoled. I feel out of breath and in need of a respirator and i have spent most of my days in bed, wishing that there was a warm body nearby that i could fold into that would breathe for both of us.

And I apologize in advance for writing so much about the last few days. But the writing helps. Lately it's the only thing helping. It has always been my way to understand what my body can't process. It has been my way, these last few days, of coping. The few people and resources I have sought out to process her death all mention the heartbreak of coping. There is just no choice but to. I have family and friends that I love, I have aspirations and dreams that I want to make reality, and I have no choice but to put one foot in front of the other and continue living. I have no choice but to cope and continue to learn to cope with her not being here anymore.

Melancholia.

The mornings are the worst.

Because there is always that brief moment when I think the last two days have been one long ass nightmare.

I can't get the voice of her mom outta my head 'i just want my baby back' and I can't help thinking that there was something I could of done.

Despite being her best friend, i've never felt more like a stranger to Marie after her suicide. Sure we talked about depression, sure we talked our feelings of isolation. At one time I was no stranger to suicidal thoughts. Who here can say that they haven't thought about it? But the difference is that I could have never gone through with ending my life because even the pain of living feels nice. Being alive and knowing that things can get better is exhilarating. It feels like a badge of honor to be alive.

My mornings these last few days consist of a lot of crying. My afternoons are spent trying to fill the emptiness in my stomach with food, in hopes that the bottomless pit that once was my stomach will feel less empty with food in it. I escaped my house for a bit yesterday and wandered the streets buying everything that look good. Chicken tenders, a sandwich, chips, soda and candy. I don't eat this much during the week but my stomach just felt so empty to the point of physical pain and cramping. I thought the food would help.

It did not. I cried during the actual consumption. The food look great and was prepared with care but everything tasted bland. I couldn't eat everything, so most of it went into my fridge. I doubt anything will feel or taste that great for the next few weeks.

Every waking thing reminds me of Marie and i seem to only be able to escape her in my dreams, a guarded realm i've had practice protecting. Her memorial is tomorrow and I won't be able to attend, I don't think I could emotionally or mentally do so even if I lived in South Carolina. I feel like I should call her parents again, but I don't have any words of comfort right now. I am a mess and the constant sobbing is making me ill. I constantly feel like throwing up but there is nothing in my stomach, so my throat and belly just ache with a weird numbness.

I've only told a few people about Marie's death. My mom, who needed to know, and Blue because he called and asked what was going on in my life lately. And I just sobbed and told him and I didn't feel any better, just less burdened by sharing the news to someone else. He was a brief source of comfort, but he didn't know her and could not grasp the extent of our friendship fully. I realized I just wanted a shoulder to cry on, to be weak and helpless, for someone to say they would take care of the pain for me.

Devastated and Disappointed is what my grief feels like these days. She was my best friend. Every memory I have from my teenage years revolves her. The last three years (up until 5 months ago) we talked too each other every day. I have her laugh embedded in my head, every plan we made for the future, feels achievable until I remember she is no longer here. She was always the stronger of the two. More assertive and smart and strong willed. I always let her take the reigns because she was my protector.

And i can't get over the fact (from the conversation I have had with her mom, stepfather and friend from work) that she was truly miserable at home and in North Carolina. The loss of her job sent Marie into the deep depths of depression and misery. She took her life in the middle of the night alone and ashamed. She was found with her cell phone, which she spent the last few minutes erasing every contact from her life. She left a note for her mom and step-dad, saying she was sorry and to call 9-1-1. She also gave directions on how to handle her body and what to do with her remains.

Even in death she needed to be in charge. She needed to have control.

The thing that goes through my head is how lonely she must have felt those last few seconds. And I don't think i'll ever forgive myself for not being more aware of her sadness. While she was withering away emotionally in south carolina, I was much more concerned with the happiness that was occurring in my life. The way things seemed to be falling into place lately. I spent the last 5 months making bonds, growing stronger in my own skin, and finding peace with my imperfections. And my best friend was in another mental state altogether.

I am depressed and sad and fucking angry at everything. I want my best friend back. I want to tell ask her why the good in her life wasn't good enough for her to stay. She had a family, a nephew who idolized her and a mother who was proud of her and best friend who wanted to see the world with her and she couldn't hang on for that. That's where the disappointment lies, because Marie knew how crappy things were. She knew that she wasn't normal by any standards. She was complicated and interesting and unique and it isn't easy being all those things in a world where average wins all the time. And our life together, revolved around proving that atypical was beautiful.

Her death makes that sentiment feel like a lie.

Her death makes me feel like a long standing truth has been shattered.

I miss her terribly. I don't know who I am without her. And I wish she would have come to me. I wish we could have at least had one last conversation before she died.

I would like to thank everyone who has reached out to me these last few days. Your support and general concern has made things....better. I am holding up (i promise). Therapy taught me how to cope with things and more than ever the lessons i learned there are helping me get through this.

But I am numb and quite despondent and am struggling too find much comfort in anything outside of bed. I was going to take the next two days off, but I know if I stay in the house her loss will eat me alive. I can't believe she's gone. It's surreal.

A Permanent Loss.

Marie committed suicide last night.

Her mom called today to let me know.

Five months after being fired from her job, leaving North Carolina and returning home to live with her parents her inability to cope with any sort of 'failure' or 'rejection' drove her to take her life.

I am inconsolable. and heartbroken.

my best friend is dead. I didn't reach her in time.

My Day in A Nutshell Part 2

McAbs: Please be okay again.

Me: I'm trying. But I don't know how.

Don't You, Forget About Me.

The last few days have been shit. Seriously.

Ever since I've found out this information about Marie: she left her job, moved back home, possibly does not want to be found; I have been in a terrible, terrible mood. No lie. And no one in my life has been helpful to assuage my fears that a) she wants to be left alone forever or b) we won't get into that possibility (which after some consideration, i think is pretty unlikely).

But option A has to mean that whatever it is that has happened to her is bad enough that she felt she couldn't come to me to talk about it. That five months later, she still can't come to me to talk about it. And I completely understand this because when my nephew died back in 2008, i didn't answer Marie's repeated phone calls for months. The text she sent went unanswered. I deleted her voice mails. And was an invisible friend for that one dreadful summer.

But she continued to hound me. Even when I didn't feel like talking because that's what our friendship is like (or what I think it is like). She never gave up looking for me and wondering what was wrong.And explaining our friendship to people who have never meet her is strange. Because despite our personality differences, we compliment one another. Where she is strong, assertive and logical I am sensitive, accomdating and driven by my heart. She's my voice of reason and I am her voice of compassion.

And I've known her since I was 12! I knew her when she had braces and big unruly hair. She knew me when I had chubby cheeks and wore that ugly blue jacket to school for a month. We've talked frequently about our issues with abandonment and trusting people. I've admitted my issues with commitment and boys. We are fearful that people will leave us or find something better. We have been a 'we' since my first day at middle school when she was the only one to ask me my name. And despite what anyone says, it's extremely weird (fine unusual) for me to hear absolutely nothing from her.

And the whole situation is bothersome now because I simply thought she was mad at me. I thought 'hey, she doesn't want to talk to me....that's cool' and that might still be the case. But for her to leave her job, move back home with her sister and mom who she is not close too at all....is just bizarre.

And what's worse is that no one currently is concerned about her 'disappearance' except me. My mom literally became angry with me over the phone because I was concerned. The words 'just let it go and move on ' actually came out of her mouth. So i sulked and ignored her phone calls for a day (but had to call today to ask for money. being broke sucks). So i went to McAbs, because well he's been doing well in my book lately and I needed a voice of reason to calm me down. assuage my fears. maybe even pull me in for a 'it's going to be okay hug'. Instead the motherfucker shrugged his shoulders, told me 'sucks for you' and then said 'what did you do before you knew her....okay, well do that'.

Are you serious?!

What happened to the comforting words. What happened to caring just for a moment about someone I care about instead of wanting to talk about stupid crap. And yeah, i didn't expect him to have the answers (hell, he doesn't know her) but I wanted him to, just for a moment anyway. And it wasn't just McAbs, the few people I told were all 'eh, so what. i mean get over it' and this is tearing me up. It's eating me alive. People are much more concerned about why I'm not smiling and joking around and making sure that they are okay rather than understanding why i am utterly distraught about this.

Now that I know that she isn't just in North Carolina ignoring me because I've said something dumb, I am concerned and scared and completely mad at myself for letting the silence go on for this long. I just figured we were taking a friend break, that we'd return as we always do back to normal. But someone disappearing from your life is almost like a death because there are times when I want to tell her something, that I can't tell anyone else, but I don't have her to go to. I have no way of contacting her: calling her, writing her, emailing her. I have no way of checking in to ask whats wrong.

And dammit, I don't care if she doesn't want to be found. Because you know what, if i suddenly went away, I'd want someone to hunt me down. Because there is always a part of you that wants someone to search for you. To have someone, even if it is just one person, who will search for you regardless.

And the last few days I have been walking around in a fog. I don't know what to do. Everyone wants me to put this recent piece of information behind me. Forget about her. She'll get in touch when she wants to. Everyone wants me to put the smile back on my face, laugh it up and stop overreacting. McAbs became livid with me today because I was pissy with him. He asked what was wrong (ugh, didn't we attempt this yesterday) and I told him that 'i needed [his] advice yesterday and instead he shut me down'. We spent the rest of the shift arguing like crazy. I never want to do that again.

I feel alone. If that makes sense. I was shelving the dumb magnetic quotes today and one by Judy Blume (maybe) about friendship and how friends are these people who keep and cherish because they are a link to our past and how much progress we have made. And maybe this is the terrifying part because Marie is the only link to my past. She was with me during the awkward teen years, she was there with me during the hell that was college, and she has been there for me now as I finally seem to be putting things together. She is my kindred spirit. I've talked to her about things that I have never gone to anyone else about (except maybe my therapist). And vice versa. We come from very similar family backgrounds (absent fathers, complicated siblings, overwhelmed mothers) and found solace in being misfits together.

And hell, our friendship wasn't perfect. It wasn't near perfect but the thought of something being wrong with her and me not being able to do anything, even wish her well...is unbearable. And I absolutely hate that everyone here needs me to be happy go lucky beckett. They need me to smile and nod and pay attention and listen to their problems and forget about my own. They need me to push past this feeling of loss (even if a temporary one) because it brings them down.

But I can't help but remind them, that if I one day, up and decided to disappear, I would still want someone to look for me. I'd still want someone to give a damn about my well being to make sure if I was okay. I don't understand why this is so hard for people to understand.

Of course now I have no idea what to do. Outside of the work friend I got in touch with, I have no other leads in order to track Marie down. And a part of me feels like I might have to wait for her to get in contact with me. Which is something I am not totally comfortable doing (especially as it feels too close to a few recommendation to 'forget about her').

But I know that I can't go around being frustrated and sullen because of this. I am wearing the sadness on my face and the longer I remain in this state thet harder it will be for me to get our of out. I physically cannot put my life on hold because it will stunt me. I know this. The obsessive thoughts will stall me and push people away and I am not that close to my current or circle of friends to expect them to wait for me to escape this despair.

But at the same time, I've never felt more at a loss about a situation. What I want to do and what I have to do are butting heads. And the one person I could use some advice from is the one person I can't find to ask it of.

Missing Person.

Marie has gone missing....literally.

After five months of silence: no phone calls, no texts about boys and Kitchen Nightmares, I push past my fears that Marie just no longer wanted to be friends (hence the silence treatment) and reached out to her on her birthday. It's her favorite holiday, more so than Christmas and thanksgiving.

Even when we are mad and livid at each other, our birthdays are a big deal. We celebrate for weeks leading up to it and send texts back and forth reminding one another, as if we'd forget, of the impending day. But with no word from her since July, I was starting to think something was up. September came and week, October flew by, and come November (after a few 'hey where the hell are you texts) when she had not called to ask if we could meet up for Thanksgiving back home, as we sometimes do, i began to worry more.

And then Tuesday, December the 6th, came around. Marie's 26th birthday. The only day of the year where she is completely and unabashedly proud of being a nuisance and making sure everyone knows it hers birthday....there was nothing but silence from her end. I sent her five or six texts that day. I rehearsed my 'you know friends don't treat friends like this' speech, I even then prepared my apology speech for the reprimanding one. But only silence. Complete and utter Silence.

I never thought Silence could feel so....empty. I usually prefer it.

By midnight I was freaking out. Because I am often a selfish, selfish girl I assumed her lack of response to my calls had something to do with her being mad at me. I mean I did call the dude she was interested in (the married one) an old, balding, hefty fellow. I do have a tendency of talking about myself (and personal problems a lot), maybe it's me. But after the awkwardness that was (is) no word from her, I started to think maybe it's her. Maybe she is in trouble or hurt or in a jam. Maybe, jesus christ, I don't want to assume it is anything worse...

So I finally called her, after a six week break from dialing her number, and for fucks sake her phone is no longer in service. I got a freaking 'this number is no longer active, if you feel this is an error please hang up and try again" recording. So I did, for an hour straight. To hear the same damn message over and over again.

Marie doesn't have a facebook account, she doesn't believe in any sort of social networking pages and I am her only friend from high school and college. I am her closest friend (i think) and she has all but disappeared from Earth. I spent the next couple of hours searching through news archives from her town to see if, snerk gerks, anything terrible had happened. But she may be the only person in the world whose name does not pop up in our info age. I searched for any clue to her absence: an accident, missing persons report SOMETHING. And nothing popped up in any of the local feeds. I then tried to reach her work email, which too has been erased.

In a panic, I called the extension to her job that she gave me a few years back, and the phone just continued to ring for a solid minute! This is fucking terrifying people. What happens if something terrible has happened to her and I have been completely absorbed in my own....issues...to pay attention to the clues.

Last night, as a last ditch effort, I reached out to the married guy I thought she was hooking up with (he sent me a facebook message once because Marie said he would never be able to find me on facebook) in hopes that he would have some information. A few hours later, I received a message saying he too had not heard from Marie in a few months and was going to contact me to see if I had her mom or sisters number. Or you freaking serious?!

I've been in conact with him since yesterday and the things I have learned about the last few months are unreal: she left her job in July and moved back home sometime in September to live with her mom and sister, she was having uber issues where she was, and the two of us are her only contact...in the WORLD.

He called just a few minutes ago (but left a voicemail) because he said the email message I sent last night (about the last few convo's i had with her in July) had him questing how much I knew about Marie's life in North Carolina. That there are some things she obviously left out during our conversations about Kitchen Nightmares. I am confused, and terrified and scared. I feel like I am either looking for a person who doesn't want to be found or worse....a ghost.

I am seriously in a state of shock and disbelief. I wont/ can't allow myself to think beyond trying to find what the hell happened to her and where she could have gone. I am a little hesitant to talk to her last contact in North Carolina for fear of revealing and finding out too much about Marie's life there. But at the same time, not knowing if she is okay, alive and doing well is the worst feeling in the world.

I don't know what to do. I never thought I'd be in a position where I'd have to consider the next steps to take in finding a person who has suddenly...gone missing.

Today in a Nutshell

Blue and I are mending our friendship after a few bumps in the road (me calling him out on his bullshit) a few months ago. It was a brutal, brutal ordeal and I don't think I've ever been madder.

So when he invited me on a mini adventure to an old abandoned quarry, I applauded him for reaching out to me and appealing to two of my favorite things : taking pictures and old abandoned things.

And the trip was pretty amazing. The old camp ground was uber spooky and desolate and dead save for a few acres of land preserved by the county. We stumbled on abandoned cars and an old tennis court and even climbed a few fences!

Afterwards, we grabbed beer and brunch at a pub (because climbing fences, rocks and other such shrubbery works up an appetite) and by gawd, I actually found a beer that i like. It's sweet and awesome and had me dancing in my seat, partially from impending drunkassness, but nonetheless yum.

And I had the best french toast in the whole wide world! Suggested to me by a very nice bartender whose name I can't remember.

And then I was offered a complimentary drink and all went to hell, because the last one always seems to do me in. I dragged Blue to the mall and the library afterwards in search for gloves and a book about birds. He didn't mind though.

I really, really, really had a great time today. I am obsessed with trying to establish a life in New York with solid friends , a job that I like (still working on that) and activities that inspire me to create art I am proud of. And so far, I've been doing an okay job of this. It has forced me to come out of my shell and put myself out there to achieve this and every adventure is one more affirmation that things are going to be okay for me. That my life is getting better. I can't explain how comforting that is.

Anyway, I should probably get some sleep. My head feels so heavy and in the morning I hope to have a brilliant story idea inspired my our hike today.

~Beckett