April 20, 2008

Eva, but that's not her real name...

I've discovered I can't recall the sound of her laughter anymore.
There is hesitation when I try to think of her middle name.
She's fading, slipping away...
She'd have turned sixteen last December. But in my mind she will stay fourteen forever...
Do I want to forget or never let go?


  1. Never forget hun, never forget.


  2. I'm in the process of fixing my sleep. Somehow I came across your blog and have been reading to pass the time. Your last statement of this post hit a chord with me, and thus I have decided to leave a comment.

    It's the way you worded it. That forgetting would in essence be letting go, and that if given the choice you weren't sure you could sacrifice the deep connection that still existed for your own well being. I believe the sad reality is that with time you forget more and more until it becomes something different. I bet the person you were would feel a deep sadness to know of this lost attachment, and yet you become content in your lack of.. I guess comprehension. It's ironic how the pain of something can become such an important link to the moments that were so genuinely innocent and meaningful.

    Every day you hear about something bad happening on the news from media people that are indifferent. You grow desensitized to the emotional turmoil of others. Seeing this page hit me hard. The reality of your love for her is present on a personal level that allowed you to share some of your affliction with me. It means something that you care so much. Being a stranger that never knew her I felt sick when I saw the pro-suicide slideshow on the right side of the page directly after seeing her picture. The world is a better place with people that have the capacity to care like you do. I'm glad you're here.

    Before my first ever blog comment turns into a novel I should probably wrap things up. I just want to say that I hope you find some of the answers you're looking for. Take care.