February 25th...

I was going to just schedule a post for today and be done with it, but I can't. I'm just not the person who can gloss over things and pretend like they aren't happening. I don't want to be that person.
It's been eleven months today since my best friend died. It sounds like a long time, but trust me, it FEELS a lot longer. It still feels so strange to not have her in my life anymore. Am I handling it better? Maybe. Some days. Not really. No. Yes. It probably depends on who you ask.

I can tell you that meeting someone new feels so strange. I can't even tell you how strange. Because a new "friend" will text me several times and when I don't reply they ask if I'm OK and how can I say "You know, I'm having a random bad day where I've spent the past two hours crying in my bathtub because my best friend died and I'm really, really missing her today." They don't understand, most of them CAN'T understand.

My family still freezes if I say her name. Tami. Kelly says it to me, and Ian does. Other than that, I never hear her name. Never. I talk about her a lot - I always have. I think about her a lot - I always will. I miss her. Eleven months without her doesn't even seem possible.

I might have mentioned this before but the 25th of the month has always been an important day for me. My birthday is a 25th. Christmas. Those two things alone have me counting things down. Tami left the US on February 25th. She didn't arrive in London until the 26th, but I always wished her a happy anniversary on the 25th and we would laugh about it. I always used to text people "10 months till Christmas! 9 months till Christmas!", etc. . Something else happened (something bad) on February 25th 2013 but it's not mine to share. And then Tami died on March 25th. I always felt like it was an important day, the 25th of the month. Now, I hate it. As if approaches, I start having panic attacks. My chest aches for days before and after. It might be stupid, but that's what it is.

Something I feel like is even worse, is the people who count the time and text me - "I can't believe Tami's been gone for 6 months!". Really? Because somehow counting the time like that makes a difference? I miss her. Today. Tomorrow. Yesterday. Six months ago. Six months from now. I don't miss her MORE because it's been eleven months today. I miss her every single day. A hundred times a day when I think of something I would have asked her or told her or shared with her.

Here is a picture of us from 2006. She is in the blue tank top, I'm in orange. We had the BEST time on this trip. (We're on a cruise.) The most fun I can remember having, actually. In the morning whoever woke up first would run over and knock on the other one's door and then try to run back to their room before they got caught. She was better at it because I was pregnant and seasick the entire time. We laughed so much.