This past weekend I traveled home for some much needed rest and relaxation with good friends. In my plans were to attend a wedding of a long-time family friend, crash a birthday party for my mom and another long-time family friend, and lastly, to celebrate an early birthday for my mother, brother and me with my grandparents and aunt.
None of those things would normally be a challenge for me, except the party I was going to crash was for Michelle White, the mother Justin Springston, one of my best friends ever. Justin passed away a little over five years ago, and this was the first time I had seen his family or many of the friends that he and I used to hang out with.
It was a challenge. It was something I kept looking at the time on my cell phone and saying to myself, “if I just stay here a little longer, I won’t be able to make it to that party.” I honestly don’t ever want to hear myself say those words again.
I can’t tell you why I haven’t seen any of those other friends over the past few years. I can’t tell you why I’ve neglected to keep up with one of my surrogate mothers (who is one of my favorite persons of all time). I can’t tell you why, time after time, I’ve cowered away from seeing any members of that family. Because there is no answer.
Part of me died the day that I heard Justin had passed away. That same part of me still hurts knowing that I can’t ever speak to him again. Maybe that part of me thought it was easier to just ignore that part of my life. Don’t fool yourself, Seth. Those feelings are nothing compared to my remorse for allowing a door to shut on what was once a huge part of my life. There’s one of the few things I’ve regretted in my life.
No words can describe how sorry I am to all of you. I’m not just talking to those of you that I’ve avoided, but to all of you that know me, friends, family, even casual acquaintances. I feel like I’ve failed on some very rudimentary level of friendship or family and I hope that I never will again.