Friends Forever

Friends Forever

A/N: This is a true story, sad but all too true. I lost my best friend a little over a year ago in this tragedy. I pray daily that she has finally found peace and happiness, and hope I may someday find what I need as well.

There are a lot of sensitive subjects discussed here, so if you are easily offended, please find something else read and put this story down now. Some of the subject material deals with depression, mental illness, suicide, human sexuality in many forms, cross dressing, trans-sexuality, homosexuality, gay, lesbian, transgender. There are some areas that deal with topics such as swinging, multiple partners and open relationships. I will voluntarily give this story an R rating, because it discusses adult themes in a very frank and candid way, however not in a vulgar or titillating manner, these discussions are meant to be educational not just a casual read.

To Denise, From your best friend in the world, Lori.

Your life was way too short (5/23/1967 – 9/05/2010). It broke my heart when you died in my arms that day. I knew you wanted to die, I had hoped you had reason to live, that I had given you a reason. I saved your life three times before when you were suicidal, If it had been in my power I would have saved you again. The doctor told me there was nothing I could have done, your heart burst, and your organs were failing. I knew you had died, but I still had to call the paramedics and go through the motions of saving you even though I knew you didn't want to continue living with all the emotional pain. How could I not try to save you, I was your “Guardian Angel” as you always called me. I had promised to always be there for you, and you knew what promises mean to me. I kept my promise to you, and called your brother last just as you wished. When I told him you had died, and I was following your wishes that he should be the last person on earth to know, I understood then what an asshole he truly was. He learned from your sister and uncle that he no longer had a say, that you had signed the documents to give me complete control of all your affairs. I felt uncomfortable with the situation you had put me in, but I kept my promises to you despite all the promises you made to me and broke. I know you tried to keep most of them, but your illness often got in the way.

Your uncle Gene handled all the arrangements with the temple, and the funeral home to take care of the cremation. Your brother said he was too busy, so he left it to the rest of us to handle. He came in the night before your services, and left a few hours after the services. He didn't even speak at the services, he was such an ass. Most of the family seemed clueless as to why he had so much animosity, they mostly chalked it up to his unwillingness to understand how your illness affected you. He was polite but curt to all of your friends at your services, he really didn't want to talk much to any of them about anything involving you.

I was glad to have had the opportunity while you were alive to get to know your sister Lisa, and to have had that conversation with her where we talked about my secret, and our special relationship. She came in to town a couple of days before the service to help with arrangements and so she and I could coördinate on your eulogy that we both were going to deliver. We went to dinner together when she got in town. She was glad you had me in your life those last 9 years. I gave her the handwritten will I had found in your journal notebook, and she understood the mysterious request in your will, why did you write it in Hebrew? Lisa had to translate it for me, and I was afraid of the controversy it might cause with the rest of your family if it had to be read publicly. Lisa and I were both very glad when Marc, in his typical asinine fashion, declared in front of the rest of the family at dinner that he didn't want anything from your estate, he was glad to be done with you finally. I breathed a sigh of relief then that we wouldn't have to have a public reading of the will. Your sister agreed that it would have been very embarrassing to explain the parts about the sex toys and the complex relationships with our gay and lesbian friends, and our special shared relationship secrets. She was glad you had given me all your clothes, makeup, and jewelry. She laughed when she read in your journal that you were jealous that I looked better in your clothes than you did. She didn't want much from the estate, just a few of the hummels, a couple of pictures, and a few items of jewelery, all of which I gladly gave her. Your sister took your mother's ashes as well as yours with her when she went back to Washington. Of all your family she has been the only one to keep the promise to stay in touch with me since your memorial service. Even our gay friends Michael and Aaron broke off contact a month after the services. I've tried to get hold of them, and have no idea why they don't want to talk with me now. At least Jackie still talks to me, and I've made her understand she can't get into all the negative crap about what was wrong with you when you and she were dating.

I've spent the last fourteen months alone, trying to find a new relationship without much success. It sucks to be me, but I refuse to get so depressed and stuck in the mire you fell into. Stephanie broke off with me about a month after you died. She was still in the hospital, she lost the baby, and about a week later told the staff she no longer would accept visits from me, said that I was stalking her. I tried to explain that I was just trying to be a true and supportive friend to her, just as I was with you, but unfortunately I was banned from ever seeing her again. I wish she had made a different decision so I could have gotten her out to go meet with her baby's daddy, Larry. I had found where he was hanging out in Venice, but he wouldn't take my word for anything and come with me to visit her in the hospital. He thought I was trying to trick him and get him committed like she had been. Having a mental illness sucks! I thank god every day that I've been able to stay away from the head doctors since I was a kid, I know what my problems are and how to deal with them, well mostly, but I haven't spiraled out of control into a suicidal depression yet.

I recently had lunch with an old friend I havent seen in 20 years. Susan was a bit surprised to learn that I am just like she was/is. She is living in Oregon now and had come to visit another old friend in Pasadena. She decided since she was in town she would try to see how many of her old friends were still around town. We spent four hours talking about what happened and wishing we had stayed in contact. She isn't looking for a relationship now, and wished me luck in my current quest. At least I have someone I can talk to about everything again, as she promised to stay in touch now. I just wish things had turned out different, that I had made different decisions then. I know there are no do overs, damn it! I'm so sorry I wasn't braver back then and had put myself first instead of being so damn concerned about everyone else.

Well, I'm going to have to close this letter now, I promise I'll write again soon. I have to go to mom's to fix dinner. I wish I was brave enough to tell her the truth too... maybe then I could start to move forward with the rest of my life and be able to get and do what I want instead of having to be and do what others expect of me. My life sucks, and you know I'm a fighter.

Your best friend, I'll love you forever as I promised

Lori