being sad on the internet

The grief I hold for my friend Hana is a fixture now.  I no longer think about her intensely every day, though there is usually at least one big sigh for her about every 48 hours.  Mostly I glaze up now, numb to her pictures and to the experience of burying her in June.  Numb about her death.  I hear her pretty often, though, and have put her on some kind of pedestal like people who wear WWJD bracelets do with Jesus.  I think "What would Hana do?  Would Hana have liked this?  Yes. or No, definitely not."  I have ridden waves of happiness and afterward felt guilt- but solace in knowing she would want me to be happy (right?  Hana, yes or no?)  It's hard.

I wore her clothes for a couple days but her smell was overwhelming.  I stopped.  Sometimes I take them out and smell them and wonder how long it will take for them to have my smell.  I think about suicide and being sad a lot.  I am sensitive to people generalizing depression and suicide.  I am sensitive to any kind of talk about it at all.  In the same way I am sensitive, I think I am becoming callous.  I feel like I am privileged because I have discovered what this kind of sadness is but at the same time I hate myself for feeling that way.  I want to stop feeling wounded.  I wish I never knew what this feels like.

I bluntly explain to new friends that "oh yes, that is my friend Hana.  She killed herself in May."  I gauge their reactions and judge them harshly.  The more questions they ask, the more I like them.  The more they admit to not knowing, the more I appreciate them.  Only close friends and I still mention her and usually it's me.  Friends who knew her through me do not talk about her.  She is a ghost now.  She is whoever I want her to be to me.  I hate it.  I sincerely hope she is a ghost.  I want ghosts to exist so badly; I want to be watched by her.

There are certain turns I take when I'm driving and if a certain song is playing and if it's in the evening my eyes will well up and I will miss Hana uncontrollably.  My face feels confused that I can't just call her or go home and send her a message.  My brain feels cold and I feel like a child.  I have only recently started listening to music again.  I listen to songs with a different ear, just like I did when I was heartbroken over other things.

And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you're blown apart
Everybody feels the wind blow

I feel justified in drifting and being lazy about my goals.  I wonder if it is possible for people to love me the way that I am right now.  I wonder if I should be in therapy even though I would not go.  Summer makes me feel so out of control, like all the molecules being so much further apart and creating so much heat is making me claustrophobic and uncontrollable.  I can't wait for cool weather so I can constrict everything under sleeves and blankets and shut windows.

There is a girl in New York City
Who calls herself the human trampoline
And sometimes when I'm falling, flying
Or tumbling in turmoil I say
Oh, so this is what she means