There really isn’t anywhere else I’d care to talk about this. I only have a little on my mind, though, running around and around in a constant circle of worry and sadness with the ever-present and obnoxious hope. I guess here is the logical choice because the only people that tend to read this are a handful that know me, and they all know me well enough not to bring this up or tell me I shouldn’t post things about it.
No one is talking about it. Dakota is in critical condition– yeah, thanks, I know he is, I saw him for myself– and no one is talking about it. I expected some kind of prayer group, or you know, people being concerned? But apparently that’s not the case. Well, I am freaking concerned. This is the boy I went to middle and high school with, the outgoing but shy, sweet boy who loves to dance and laugh and act and write poetry. He is the boy whose best friends are some of my best friends, who’s been up to my house for bonfires. Who’s been in musicals with me since forever. Who’s going to Fredonia for theatre next year, with a writing minor. He has a half-finished tattoo that needs to be colored in, dammit.
I guess it’s natural that today’s been a long day to think about it. I get sick thinking that someone else with so much to live for might not get the chance. He’s strong, though, and his body will fight and heal and recover. I just want him to get better. I never want to hear the worst news. This was never supposed to happen. Hey God, if you give a shit, don’t take another boy away from his mother, his family, his friends. He has so much to offer the world. He might want to be forever young, but not like this.
Stay strong, Dakota.
Rest in peace, Dan. (Sept. 4, 1989 – Apr. 25, 2009.)