would have been

I used to have a friend named Dennie. She was so fucking cool. She was born and raised in NYC, then came down to Austin in the hippie heydays of the late 60s/early 70s. By the time I met her, she was still pretty much a hippie. She had done so many things in her life; she was a writer and a photographer and a dancer and an artist and a musician and an astrologer and an inventor and more. Truly one of the most interesting human beings I will EVER meet.

She and I would talk for hours at a time, about everything under the sun. We shared a passion for movies and certain television shows - not just watching them but talking, talking, talking about them. Then talking some more. Those discussions alone could fill an entire afternoon, but that was just the beginning. We'd almost always end up talking about politics, work, pop culture, philosophy, our mutual fondness for Scottish accents and gorgeous men, religion, music, travel, literature, art, the overwhelming beauty of this world, and the overwhelming ugliness of it, history, our histories, and of course endless topics relating to our own daily lives. She was deep. She made me think. She made me laugh like crazy. She didn't really have things figured out either but after talking to her, I felt so much less alone in this world. We connected on a level that is rare and beautiful, soulful. I loved her. I miss her.

Things were hard for Dennie. She often said she was an inherently miserable person, and while I saw flashes of that, there was so much more. But she finally decided she'd had enough, and in February 2007, she ended things for good. She didn't tell anyone of her plans, and I'm sure it's because she didn't want to be stopped. But that also means that she didn't tell anyone goodbye. I won't dwell here on the pain and devastation I felt after that. I've accepted her decision, and I even think I understand it. She didn't see things getting any better and she wanted to go out on her own terms.

Today would have been her birthday. I'd have taken her to lunch, probably this weekend. We'd probably have walked from her apartment across the street to La Feria, then back again to her apartment or the courtyard behind it, because we wouldn't have been done with our marathon gab session. It would have been so fulfilling and fun and invigorating.

I still have so many things I want to ask her, discuss with her, share with her. And I really, really, hate that I can't.

This song will always remind me of Dennie, both because of the song itself and because I first heard it a couple weeks after she died. I can listen to it over and over and over again, I never get sick of it, and I always - always - cry a little. It's one of my all-time favorite songs. You've probably heard it dozens of times yourself. But give it another listen. Because of Dennie. Because it's beautiful. Because I loved her. Because I miss her.

And because it would have been her birthday today.