So after my near mental break early in the year, I managed to tuck all of my feelings back under my hat after a conversation with Daisy. I appears that these emotions are starting to seep back out. Undeniably Pete's death had a bit to do with where I am now mentally and emotionally, but truth be told, whatever I'm going through seems to be bigger than him.
Another friend chimed in that ever since "ya know" happened (I'm not quite sure why his death became unmentionable), I've been in a funk. A third friend commented that it is quite strange that after only 5 months of friendship, I've grieved as hard as I have. As the questions and comments rang out, the tears started falling again. I simply said "I don't know why or how things happened! All I know is that I miss my friend!" Seeing my response, my friends backed off. Thankfully the topic eventually changed, but as we got ready to part, my friends assured me that moving far out is just something temporary in my head.
Little did they know that I've been over this shit since way before Pete's passing. I'm kind of perplexed at things right now. Ironically enough, I feel like Pete would be the one person that I should be talking to because he'd understand exactly where my mind is. I feel like white people are allowed to feel like I do. They're allowed to be over it all and flee and travel and be over simple shit like Instagram models and whatever rapper they're fucking. I feel like black people are supposed to want to move to Atlanta and do brunches and drink mimosas, and hang in fancy black circles. On the other hand, just last night I sat at a presentation given by the Lowery Institute, sat in a room with plenty of well-established people, and sat in on a photo op as the pantry I started was given $5,000. Stuff other people strive for, I live. And I want to give it all back, just to have a simple life. This damned sure isn't what I bargained for.