14/02/2017 3:54 PM AEDT | Updated 14/02/2017 3:54 PM AEDT

Losing A Part Of Me


This week I lost someone near and dear to me. I bid farewell my temperamental best friend and the extension of my right arm.

The grief is all consuming and the worst part about it is it's completely my fault. I was innocently tying my hair up, hand in hand with my closest ally, when the unthinkable happened.

I accidentally flicked my bestie into a sink full of water.

I don't hate them for leaving me. In a self-indulgent fashion, I resent them for the gaping gorge they have left in my life.

I have lost someone close to me before. I thought I was well versed in the stress and emotional toll it would have on my life. I was wrong.

It took me more than three years after I lost my former best friend to rebuild my music playlist. The near complete list complimented my every mood. If I needed to be morose, REM was there. If I needed to feel young, S-Club 7 carried me through my day. It's all gone. There is a silence in my life where the music used to be and I only have myself to blame.

I've drifted through the days following my loss in a sea of confusion. I haven't been unable to log on to my email. The combination lock on my bike is staying locked and I see no reason to log into social media. I can't even check my bank account.

It is impossible to imagine 500 images of my dog doing nothing. I can't flick back through time to see what I was doing on this day seven years ago. I cannot possibly finally use a screenshotted meme that I was saving for the perfect occasion.

I am so dissolute that when people call me now, I don't even recognise their number. My appointments and meetings are insignificant, they cease to exist. My work reminders and urgent messages no longer matter and I resent myself for missing their presence.

I wish I had a better reason for losing you. A more extravagant excuse. "The crocodile was huge I swear." You deserved to go out with the glory you earned.

My alarm is now different, I run to different music and the contact I once held with my friends is no longer documented.

We laughed together, we cried together and we received fines for talking together while driving.

Goodbye phone. I will never forget you.