Early on in my pregnancy, before most people knew I was pregnant, I told a friend, mentor, and overall, a kickass mom that I was pregnant. To be honest, she kind of already knew because she's smart. Plus, I can't lie to her, really I can't lie at all. But there are some people in life that the moment they ask you a simple question like "Where should we eat?" You tell them everything and you realize you've told them everything except for where you want to eat. That's this person for me. But that's okay because she really does want to know. Bless her.

This day in particular, she dropped off her daughter to a bible study, I met her on a street corner in the dark. Becausee we're shady people. We walked to the charming, Downtown Orange Circle to go eat dinner and gelato. As we're chatting, a heavy conversation stems. I don't talk to a lot of people often and there aren't a lot of people I trust with how I feel especially when life has been a bit dark in life. I always hate sounding negative because I know that bad things don't define my life, even when it seems like it does. I'm just in what feels like a never ending season and I pray that it doesn't last for 40 years in the desert. Another day though.

During our conversations, I try to make it a point to find a silver-lining or something I'm truly grateful for. I do this as a way to take a step back and ground myself. But this time, at 16 weeks in my pregnancy, I made the connection that I was going to love more. That at that moment, I was grateful that God instilled in me that capacity to be able to love more. I felt grateful that even after loving Jesus for the better part of my life, He still teaches me how to love. Because the deeper you love, the more layers there are. The year before I was married and daily am learning how to love in that capacity of continuous love and choice. But now, a tiny human from that love was growing inside me. I was thankful that my capacity to love was growing, knowing I had no idea what that really meant.

Fast forward, here she is at 16 weeks and I continuously stare at her in amazement. Even on our worst days, when I haven't showered or slept in days. I stare at her intricate little details. Her perfect fingers, her perfect toes. Her big, blue eyes and contagious smile. Heck, her cute little tush becomes a focal point. When she sleeps I watch the rise and fall of her chest, usually holding back tears, in part, because I'm terrified I will wake her and the other fear that I won't be able to stop. Because I love her that much.

a lot of this is me sifting through feelings.

Grief.

It comes in waves.

A few days ago, I lost a very dear friend of mine. A friend that I hadn't spoken to in a while but one who was always in my heart and not far from my thoughts.

I steer clear of grief. I've missed a majority of my family's funerals. There are lots of reasons why. In reality, I don't want to deal with emotions. It's selfish. You know what, I say it's selfish but it's really not. I just know myself and what my heart does.

When I look at my youth, death was never far behind. Pain was always within arms reach. This isn't the "emo" girl coming out. This is the truth. There were harsh realities in my growing up that I never wish upon another. And that is where my journey with grief begins. With a very heavy heart.

In trending with how I feel about death and missing funerals and skipping over the grieving period. I shook things up this time. When I heard of my sweet friend passing, I jumped on the quickest plane I could and found myself back to a place I hardly recognize, but a place my heart gravitates. A place that quickly finds all the dark corners in my brain; memories and feelings begin flooding out. It's scary. The scariest thing about it is... 10 years ago, I was in a similar place as I am today. Grieving. With the same people. Losing another one of our own.

This one, he held a really special place in my heart. I wish he knew that. I hope he knew that. Since he's passed. I started going to those deep, dark corners in my brain, trying to remember everything I could about him. Uncovering cobbwebbs of times I've buried deep away and I realized there was just too much. This is why you don't go where you come from people, this is why. Give me a while and I might find really positive thoughts to digging deep in the past. But today, I can't. At the end of the day, I find a lot of regret.

I started going through old journals looking for words I wrote about you. I couldn't find what I was looking for. I wished I wrote about you more. I know why I didn't. But I wish I did.

This is what I'd tell you:

I'm not sure if you knew this, but I might have loved you a lot more than you knew. You were one of my safest friends and one of my most dangerous. I think you only ever realized the safest part. You had a way of growing on me(and most people for that matter), you appeared one day and never left my life. I gravitated toward you even if it didn't seem like it. We had this chemistry that when we were close to each other there was this deep connection. It was magnetic and I never wanted you to go. I loved that you loved me and told me but never expected anything in return. You just held out hope that maybe, some day. This girl, that you adored would someday want to stay. And we joked about it. To be honest, you scared me. You made me feel so beautiful and the standard you had for me, definitely ruined me for a long time. I was lucky, to have such amazing guy friends in my life. Ones that made me feel loved, beautiful, like I had value.

I hated having your heart. I felt like you gave me so much power. That's what scared me about your friendship. You shared your vulnerable heart with people and they loved you for it. I loved you for it. But your heart was so open and fragile and broken. But you bounced back and your optimism showed through it. ALWAYS. Your positivity to look at any situation is something I will remember for all of my days. You wanted everyone around you to be happy and you would try your hardest to make it happen.

I loved the long nights we spent together, I loved friend overs with you. I loved talking poetry and philosophy while sitting around listening to punkrock or whatever else. I loved that you listened to the lyrics just as much as I did. I have a memory of you, I honestly don't know how I ended up with you. Actually let's me honest, you probably called me for a ride and we just drove around talking until it was too late to drive anymore. So we went to my house and talked some more until we fell asleep. Things were simple and complicated all at the same time. We never talked about the complication. You actually probably never knew there was complication. If you would have had enough balls to kiss me. I would have kissed you back. I wouldn't have been able to help myself. You were way more charming than I ever let on. But you were always so damn respectful of me (and other girls). So you sufficed with being next to me, trying to get as close as you could get. Just so you know, the closer you got, the more my heart almost stopped. Us "older" chicks have to keep a reputation and keep our hard shells.

Your childlike spirit was infectious. You acted like you didn't have a care in the world. But I know that's not true. You loved deeply. You were beyond loyal. Your heart was burdened for the hurting and the problems of this world, You fought lots of inner battles, you could always see more than there was. Constantly. All this is a lot to take, I know. I wished I could have made things great for you just like you made things great for everyone else. I would give anything to have a one of your Justun Bell hugs. I would to just sit on the grass, watching clouds, and have one never-ending conversation, you'd know the right things to say. This is why my heart is heavy, the world lost a great human being. Truly one of the best around. Thank you for being you, Justun Bell. I'm sorry I took for granted that I'd always talk to you "soon." You were never far from my thoughts.

i loved you so.

Until we meet again, my friend

Now, that I'm taking the time to grieve, I'd kind of like to stop now.

I just have to keep reminding myself:

It comes in waves.