Zed’s Dead, Baby. Zed’s Dead.
Dear James,
Friday marks a year since you died and while I miss you terribly, the time seems to have gone by so quickly. I’m still angry at you for checking out so early, but I do understand that your poor body just gave out and couldn’t handle anymore pain. Big Brother started right after you died last year, and I couldn’t watch it without crying. As I sat on the couch crying every time I saw a commercial, I could hear you laughing, pointing your finger at me and saying, “Looooooooooooser.” You introduced me to that show, and insisted I watch it so we could discuss all the drama, and as you predicted, I became hooked. Your mother emailed me last summer to discuss the show because she missed talking about it with you, too. It just wasn’t the same, though. It starts in a few weeks and this season, I think I can watch it with fond memories while knowing I will probably not have anyone to discuss all the craziness with. (I ended the sentence that way on purpose, just to irritate the journalist side of you.) No one loved reality television as much as you, and while it seems petty and a bit crazy, no one can ever replace you in my love for reality tv discussions.
I hope you’ve found peace. I try sometimes, but I’m not quite there yet. You understood me. You saw through the bullshit, and you took the time to really know me. You were my dear friend and I will never forget the countless hours we spent talking about movies, tv shows, and analyzing The Wire, West Wing, Sopranos, yet somehow I always knew how much you cared, and that when I really needed a friend, you’d be there. We didn’t always have to have a serious conversation to understand the importance of that friendship.
When I read the thousands of tributes to you after you died, I was moved to tears countless times. You were such an amazing person and touched so many people in such an incredible way. Your sense of humor could not be matched, and your positive attitude was beyond admirable. I know you would have hated reading all those nice things people said about you and were probably irritated that so many people were upset. I also know you probably still wish you could have pulled a prank at your memorial and popped in and scared everyone while you laughed and laughed.
The day you died, my best friend Jeanna was diagnosed with bile duct cancer. This was such a difficult time for me, and not having you around to talk to made it so much more difficult. She died a month after you and I lost two of my closest friends way too close together. I have to say that makes the summer of 2008 the worst one in the history of my life.
Even though I said all these nice things to you, don’t ever forget that I’m still really pissed off at you for being so selfish and leaving me. Only you would get the humor in what I’m about to say, and that’s all that matters. I hope you fuck off and die.
Yours not very truly,
Trish