Y Friday, October 17, 2008
8:04 pm
And so it was about a year ago that Wrixon left us for greener pastures. Almost the entirety of 4F paid him a visit, and damn, what a ruckus. We sure stirred up that tranquil place. I had a feeling Wrixxie was getting bored anyway, no sane Victorian gets by without some noise once in awhile, especially those made by your fellow Victorians.Ah what the heck. I'm rambling.
Anyway, yeah, we paid him a visit. Wrixon's mum still projects this very strong and cheerful image and outlook. I can't help but to feel she's bleeding inside. I can't help but to feel we're all bleeding inside, underneath the smiles, laughs and jokes. It just doesn't show.
Sometimes I feel it's so unfair, as if we've all been shortchanged. I want to scream out loud, tell the world that having only memories to keep isn't enough.
But like I said, things never go as planned. You don't plan life, you do it.
I used to and still wonder, had the accident not happened, what JC would Wrix end up in? Andrew and I both agreed CJ was the likely destination, I couldn't see him fitting in anywhere else, and it'd be cool. He'd complain about how craptastic CJ's band is compared to VSCB, we'd joke and whine about how bad CJ is, how VJ isn't quite VS, and it was fine we didn't get in, how we miss the old days, how we missed 4F.
Could haves, should haves, if onlys, maybes.
I asked myself "How's it feel to be out of reach, for the third time now?" I kept coming back to only one answer: Unbearable.