I finally made myself leave the apartment yesterday afternoon because I hadn't been able to eat much of the day. (the roommies were home and CUJO was out and about, so no cooking for me) I grabbed some food at Boston Market, because it's mildly healthy and then ran over to CVS to put some things on a giftcard that I got for transferring a
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What is important is not the future where the person you love is dead, but the past where he is always alive. I spent a long time cursing the phrase "celebrate their lives, not their death" before I realized that doing so is the only way to mourn without being self destructive.
For me, every time I see Jim's ink on my arm I try to think, "I'm so DAMN lucky I got to meet him when I did."
PS
I'm not sure I know you, Panzerbane, but I am sorry to hear about your friend's battle with cancer. That is a harsh way to go. My sincere sympathies there. Sounds like you remember the best of him.
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