Well Friday has not started out good, not good at all.
Through a photo posted on Facebook, I discovered that a dear friend has suffered a heart attack. His brain was deprived of oxygen for about 8 minutes. They have him in a medically induced coma and will be trying to awaken him this afternoon.
This man is the one that can be credited, or blamed, with me actually putting pen to paper. He encouraged me, brainstormed with me and inspired me to be something more than I thought that I could be.
He is a brilliant writer himself, wicked smart and has the most amazing sense of humor. He is truly one of the best friends I've ever had.
Now, I feel guilty that I've lain the fiction aside, like I'm letting him down. If it weren't for him, this blog wouldn't exist. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't realize that I even had a voice, that anyone would ever want to hear what I had to say.
Finding my voice has been liberating and frightening. Sometimes I am still afraid of the words that I want to say, and I don't say them. And I am filled with regrets, regrets over unsaid words, over actions not taken, opportunities missed, doors slammed, windows closed...
But I am in a place that I wasn't a couple of years ago, I do have an outlet, I can purge the feelings via my keyboard. Let them out into the world to do as they will.
But... am I now using my keyboard to hide behind? Am I living through this blog, yet not REALLY living the life that I need to be living? Not living in the way that will give me happiness? Satisfaction? Fulfillment?
As usual, I have no fucking clue.
I'm sad, my heart is breaking for my friend... but if anyone is strong enough in body and spirit to recover from this, it is him, that is one thing that I do have faith in.
So, I am sending every good vibe that I can muster his way and asking the same of my friends, as I anxiously await updates from his girlfriend.
He has to pull through this, he just has to...