In exactly 13 days, the hundreds (maybe thousands?) of people who loved or even distantly admired Ron will have survived an entire year without him. It has been both the longest and shortest year of my life. So much has happened that I feel like I’m under the weight of decades, and yet, sometimes Ron crosses my mind or my dreams like he was just here yesterday, and I have to make a conscious effort to wrap my brain around the amount of time he’s been gone.
I haven’t written in months. In some ways, putting the negativity in my life to words felt like a solid outlet and a way to express anger before it boiled into utter rage. In other ways, the blogosphere became a part of the negativity in my life. I rehashed so much that didn’t require rehashing. I sought the blogs of people I could relate to, but came to the overwhelming realization that I wasn’t ready to absorb more sadness.
I do feel like I’m in a place where I need my outlet back (sans, perhaps, the open letters to my enemies), but I don’t feel like overwhelming myself or anyone else with grand displays of emotion right now. I want to come back tonight with a bit of lightheartedness. Not every moment of my life since Ron’s death is entirely without joy. Here are a few anonymous* (and perhaps slightly embellished, as I’m going off of memory alone) snippets of conversations or experiences I’ve had in the several months I’ve been absent.