It's been nearly three weeks now. Three weeks since the day I learned that you were gone. For most of this time, it hasn't felt real. It's' felt... I dunno... Like I'm trapped in this parallel universe where everything is the same but something is just slightly off. Like you're at a friend's house, not ashes. And all I can think is that... Thank god they didn't bury you. You would've hated it so much. Thank god they're letting you travel.
You'd be so proud of me. I was drunk at your funeral. Not just drunk, I was hammered. I was sober for the whole viewing thing, but I couldn't be for the service, not with Marty pestering me about my sexuality and Facebook and stupid things like that. So I took a shot of tequila straight from the bottle and stumbled away. You would've laughed so hard and cheered me on. You would've thought it was so funny. I miss you so fucking much.
I don't know why I'm writing this. I really don't. Maybe it's to say I'm sorry for something? I don't know. Maybe it's to monetize my pain? Maybe it's just to get rid of all the thoughts that won't stop circling my mind? I don't know. I thought the music was helping. I thought singing along to that Twenty One Pilots song was helping. I thought these things were helping, but I just feel hollow.
I took the bikini by the way. The one that you made for the photoshoot. The one when you shaved my head. I always treasured those photoshoots so much. You had such a way of making me feel gorgeous, even when I couldn't see it for myself. You just thought of them as art, but I could never wait for the next one. Even when I was complaining about them, I loved them so so much. They're some of my best memories to be honest, just doing wild things and snapping some photos. Dumping homemade paint all over, coating Lin and I in fake blood, waking up at six AM just so that the fog would be perfect. I miss those days. It was all so much simpler back then.
We really never did say goodbye y'know. When you left Spokane. I just went to work one day and when I came home you were gone. We saw each other later on, on my birthday. But that felt so rushed. I was too selfish. I didn't care enough. I missed out on my chance to remember you. You tried so hard to hold on tight, and I refused. I absolutely refused to make that connection. I didn't want to lose you again. And now here I am, writing jumbled thoughts on a website and knowing that you'll never read them.
You'd like what we're doing with your ashes though, and all your boxes and your giraffes. Part of you will be taken back to Montana to be put to rest with the family, but Dad, he's gonna take your ashes with him when he travels. Not all at once, just little bits and pieces. And he'll take a box with a giraffe and a note. The notes all read:
"In loving memory. Please take to your favorite place and post a photo. #KenzieTravels"
I wonder how many people will do it. How many of them will take your giraffes somewhere special. I wonder how many places you'll go. I can't wait to see the pictures. I can't wait to know that you're everywhere you dreamed of going.
Dad says that the car won't drive to Florida, but I don't care. I'm gonna take it there anyways. I've got one of your pins, and I'm gonna post it even if no one else does. You will go somewhere amazing Kenzie. You and me are going to go on that adventure we always dreamed of. I promise.