rain pours and closet doors • River Phoenix

entry five

November 25, 1992

I miss you

It's been almost a year since you died, crazy huh? How time flys.

Before I get into anything, you must be wondering how I got this journal, why I'm writing in it, and how I am.

Well first, I was going through your old stuff with Mary at your apartment, and I found this. I remembered it immediately, from the times when we where young.

I'm here now at the deck, by the waterfall, in the woods. Where id go when I was a kid to gather my thoughts. They where always about you.

Second, I'm writing in it because, well, I felt you needed a knew entry. It hasn't been updated since April 7th, 1988, so I thought maybe you'd want it to be.

Thirdly, I didn't tell you this while you where alive but when I was at Texas I took classes for people with dyslexia. They taught me how to read, and write. I know I'm not the best, but it works.

I know I shouldn't have, but I read your other entries, and they may I say are beautiful. If I would of known how amazing you are at writing I would of made you write me a letter.

So, I visited your grave the other day, and it reminded me of your funeral. How handsome you where. Isn't that insane? First time I'll see you in a tux is at your funeral.

Anyway, I met Pumacat as well. He was at your grave when I was there. He's a wonderful man. He wanted me to write that he was sorry for not attending your funeral. That he was too guilty. And that he also wanted me to tell you that everyone should survive their first rebellion, dying defeats the whole point. I thought so too.

We talked, and he said that it was a pleasure finally meeting me. He told me that you talked about me all the time. And that I was more beautiful than he imagined.

Oh, there was one other thing. Mary had a girl. She also named her after you. On Rivers first birthday she said dad.

I know you are probably thinking,
"How are you doing?"

Well, I'm doing fine. At first, I wasn't. But know, I've come to a peace at mind. At first, I was considering suicide, how could I possibly live with my world gone? I fell into this depression, the depression was another word for morn. But, one day, when I laid in bed, I remembered the first time we met. And what we talked about. How I told you that you never know how much you love someone till they're gone. Then that's when I realized, I needed to move on from this sadness and start living my life with joy. That's what you did with your family, your aunt, then I can do it with you.

It's funny how things are so different now. How really my only friend is Pumacat, and how I have a job as a librarian. Yeah I know, a librarian, weird huh?

If you are wondering, I haven't found anyone yet. I'm still under your spell. Loving you was the most exquisite form of self destruction.

Before I end this entry, I'm going to tape my Polaroid you forgot on my hotel bed the day you died, to a page. Then ill always will be with you. I might tape some flowers or moss too, but I haven't decided yet.

River, I really miss you, so much. I'm blind without you. Lost. I have no idea where I'm going and I need you.

I love you. Stay happy.

And thanks to you, I'm not afraid anymore.