The first time someone close to me died was in 2010. Since then, a little over a year later, another four friends have passed on. They were all so young, and they were all so unexpected. I doubt though that any time someone hears of a close one’s death, we can’t help but feel like we’ve been punched in the stomach. That’s the only way I can describe how I feel when I think about them. Suicide, accidental shooting, car accident, skate-boarding accident, heart attack all between the ages of eighteen and thirty-three. I never went to church. I don’t have a religion. I have never really talked about death. All I know if that they are loved. 

I choose to talk about them and remember them to keep their spirit alive. I also recently thought up an idea for a photograph - it felt good to create art in memory of him. I know it looks to some as a “negative” or “sad” piece of artwork. It wasn’t done while I was weeping or in mourning. I was enjoying a sunset with my boyfriend at one of my oldest favorite spots. It was only this last year where I rarely visited the bluffs. I don’t see it as a place to avoid anymore. 

Enjoy life.