I don't exactly remember how it happened. One day we just started talking and she quickly became a close friend. The friendships that are cultivated over a mutual illness create an unbreakable bond between friends. That's what I, and so many others shared with Jordan.
From the first day we exchanged numbers, up until the last text I received hours before her death, Jordan was my friend. More than that, she was a confidant and a supporter.
I write this for me. To try to make sense out of something that is confusing and angering and drowning me in sadness.
I was engulfed in a wave of overwhelming and indistinguishable feelings upon hearing the news of my friend's death.
As I sank to the floor in a puddle of my own heartbreak, our previous conversations replayed in my mind.
Jordan was funny. Hilarious. She used to send these massive texts to our group chats that left everyone in stitches. She said the randomest things and the comic relief was one hundred percent what everyone needed.
Jordan was kind. I cannot count the times she would read a Facebook status or Instagram update and check on me within minutes of it being posted. Recently, after a life altering appointment, she consoled me and virtually held my hand reminding me we'd get through it together.
Jordan was hopeful. She was consistently reminding me that things could get better.
She was encouraging. She was smart. She was steadfast in her love.
The hardest part of loosing her is the suddenness of it. I feel like I am walking in a dream state. How could we possibly have been having such a normal conversation hours before she was to leave this earth?
I can't explain what I feel in her absence because all of the emotions are rolled into one big cloud of confusion. I'm angry for the loss of a great friend. I'm happy that she's no longer in pain. I feel guilty for wanting her back, but I also feel numb. Empty.
Less than a week ago Jordan got "See You Again" stuck in my head, and when I turned the radio on today to drown out the jumbled mess in my mind, those words hit me hard.
"First you both go out your way
And the vibe is feeling strong
And what's small turn to a friendship
A friendship turn to a bond
And that bond will never be broken
The love will never get lost
And when brotherhood come first
Then the line will never be crossed
Established it on our own
When that line had to be drawn
And that line is what we reach
So remember me when I'm gone"
Not getting to say goodbye is a hard thing to cope with. So Jordan, I know you're out there, and I know you can hear me when I say "thank you."
Thank you for the laughter, the memories, the support and the love you have shown me throughout the course of our friendship.
Thank you for consistently showing up. Thank you for virtually holding my hand, cursing my doctors, and wiping my tears.
There's so much I wish we could get the chance to do.
I promise you we will all make it to Nashville and toast you with giant frappuccinos like we planned to do just the other day.
I promise to look to God for comfort and continue to seek a relationship with Him.
I promise to never forget you and your legacy of love.
And when we meet again, I promise to hug you so tightly that you can taste every memory we made.
Rest in peace, princess. Gone but not forgotten.
From the first day we exchanged numbers, up until the last text I received hours before her death, Jordan was my friend. More than that, she was a confidant and a supporter.
I write this for me. To try to make sense out of something that is confusing and angering and drowning me in sadness.
I was engulfed in a wave of overwhelming and indistinguishable feelings upon hearing the news of my friend's death.
As I sank to the floor in a puddle of my own heartbreak, our previous conversations replayed in my mind.
Jordan was funny. Hilarious. She used to send these massive texts to our group chats that left everyone in stitches. She said the randomest things and the comic relief was one hundred percent what everyone needed.
Jordan was kind. I cannot count the times she would read a Facebook status or Instagram update and check on me within minutes of it being posted. Recently, after a life altering appointment, she consoled me and virtually held my hand reminding me we'd get through it together.
Jordan was hopeful. She was consistently reminding me that things could get better.
She was encouraging. She was smart. She was steadfast in her love.
The hardest part of loosing her is the suddenness of it. I feel like I am walking in a dream state. How could we possibly have been having such a normal conversation hours before she was to leave this earth?
I can't explain what I feel in her absence because all of the emotions are rolled into one big cloud of confusion. I'm angry for the loss of a great friend. I'm happy that she's no longer in pain. I feel guilty for wanting her back, but I also feel numb. Empty.
Less than a week ago Jordan got "See You Again" stuck in my head, and when I turned the radio on today to drown out the jumbled mess in my mind, those words hit me hard.
"First you both go out your way
And the vibe is feeling strong
And what's small turn to a friendship
A friendship turn to a bond
And that bond will never be broken
The love will never get lost
And when brotherhood come first
Then the line will never be crossed
Established it on our own
When that line had to be drawn
And that line is what we reach
So remember me when I'm gone"
Not getting to say goodbye is a hard thing to cope with. So Jordan, I know you're out there, and I know you can hear me when I say "thank you."
Thank you for the laughter, the memories, the support and the love you have shown me throughout the course of our friendship.
Thank you for consistently showing up. Thank you for virtually holding my hand, cursing my doctors, and wiping my tears.
There's so much I wish we could get the chance to do.
I promise you we will all make it to Nashville and toast you with giant frappuccinos like we planned to do just the other day.
I promise to look to God for comfort and continue to seek a relationship with Him.
I promise to never forget you and your legacy of love.
And when we meet again, I promise to hug you so tightly that you can taste every memory we made.
Rest in peace, princess. Gone but not forgotten.