"And every night I miss you I can just look up and know the stars are holding you tonight."

It's over.

She passed away early Father's Day morning.

It's a blessing. She's no longer in pain.

I keep thinking about Simba. Maybe because he was honestly the closest "person" I've ever lost, maybe because his diagnosis came not long after hers, maybe because I'm crazy. Who knows.

At any rate, I remember the worst days with him, before his rally. Watching him suffer, wondering why it had to be that way, but not having the strength to have him put down. I remember the nights I laid in bed crying and praying, "Please God, just let it be over."

I'm grateful she doesn't have to suffer any longer.

Today, the world is a darker place. I will learn to shine my light that much brighter to compensate. I believe I can do it, because she would have believed I could do it. She brought so much warmth and peace and joy to the people around her, just by being. I want to do that. I want to be that person.

Vicariosity.

My friend M told me she's living vicariously through me.

I laughed, but I guess I get it. I go on dates - hell, I get ASKED on dates. It's new and awesome for me too. I go on adventures, I drink, I suffer hilarious misfortunes and make hilarious mistakes. I dated a French guy, then went through the most absurdly romantic breakup ever. I had three guys profess varying degrees of love for me IN ONE DAY. Not gonna lie, my life has an awesomeness to it.

But M? M has a husband and two girls. Her oldest is shy, quiet - so much that if you can make her crack a smile it's like winning the lottery. Her youngest is five and hilarious in that way we forget how to be as we get older. She tells stories about horses on toilets and she can knock the wind out of you with a hug.

J has a husband a teen, and an almost-teen. They're beautiful and funny and melodramatic - red-headed chaos incarnate, x2. The oldest is dating now - every day is a potential roller coaster, where the highs are a joy to behold and the lows break your heart. The youngest isn't quite there yet, she's still random and wild and silly. She always has a comeback and it usually makes you laugh til you cry.

R's husband can play the dulcimer. Her oldest is a girl and she's teaching herself Greek, Hebrew, and Arabic. Her middle son can communicate with fireflies with a flashlight and wants a pickaxe in case a tornado traps the family in the basement. Her youngest made a jetpack for a stuffed hummingbird.

Who's living vicariously here?

I think I'm seeing this guy. He said life is over by the time you're 33, when you're married and you have kids. Now I see the appeal in drinking til 3 AM, sleeping half the day, doing whatever sounds good at the moment. But there's more to life than that.

Jailbreak.

I pride myself on my open, trusting heart. Despite the number of people who have tried their best to destroy the beauty at the heart of me, I keep on loving, keep on trusting. It feels like triumph.

It also sucks. Twice in the last month, someone I care very deeply for has all but withdrawn from my life. It's wearing on me. Break my heart. Crush me decisively. Don't fade away, leaving me with the hope that you'll someday return.

I live to connect with people. But lately it seems that the stronger the connection, the more likely they are to disconnect. Is it me? How am I getting in so deep when the other person can't possibly be, since they find it so easy to bail on me?

Or is my optimism correct? Are they simply cowards, not comfortable with connecting this deeply?