Love, Galaxy

Galaxy and her Demons

  Dear Readers, 

  Galaxy wasn't  perfect. She had her own demons. Her father hit her mom, her mom hit her, her brother killed himself and she tried to. But somehow, Galaxy and I became the best of friends. Maybe it was because I had that 'perfect' life she always wanted. My parents never hit any of us, my siblings never killed themselves and I've never tried. 

  Yet Galaxy was never the kind of girl to make her feelings public... Unlike me. Who had a blog even before I started Love, Galaxy. She always hid her demons. I knew Galaxy tried to be that 'cool girl'. The one who had a million boys lining up, waiting to be her man. I knew that I was always gonna be the geeky DUFF friend. Galaxy was prettier, smarter, kinder and better than I could ever be. But I loved her. I will always love her, despite the fact that she's gone. Galaxy will be—in the words of  Anne Shirley-Cuthbert—my bosom friend, my fellow kindred spirit. 

  There will never be another Galaxy for me. There will never be another Galaxy and Multi. There will only ever be the endless abyss that is loneliness, pain and sorrow that we all feel in the wake her her premature death. 

  I'm not sorry we were there that day. Because if we weren't there, Galaxy would have stayed pregnant and she wouldn't have had the guts to go through with the termination. But if we had stayed a wee longer, if we had run away instead of tried to fight, if we called for help instead of taking on three grown ass men, three kids could have walked away with nothing more than fear set in their hearts 

  The worst part—all of it is bad, let's be clear. But some parts are worse—is that Comet died too. If Comet had stayed alive, then at least I could mourn her death with someone who knew her like I did. Who loved her like I did. With Comet, I could have mourned her death with somebody who was there too, with some one who also witnessed the horrific events of that day. 

  After their deaths, I felt guilty for living. I felt guilty that Galaxy and Comet had to die, yet there I was, still alive. I stopped functioning. I stopped doing the things I should be able to do. I couldn't eat, sleep, or bring myself to get out of bed. 

  Galaxy couldn't, why should I? Galaxy was six feet under, her arms crossed and a beautiful arrangement of her favourite flowers placed in her hands. She was buried next to Comet. So that they could be together forever. Cheesy, until you take in the fact that they were fifteen and that they were each others first girl or boyfriend. They had never been with anyone else. 

  Nor would they ever be. They'll never had kids—with each other, or with others—to tell their epic love story to. They'll never have grandbabies to spoil and dote on. If heaven was real, I like to think that Galaxy and Comet are happily holding hands and skipping along. 

  But I don't. I don't believe in heaven, or God. Those beliefs died along with Galaxy and Comet. 

  Love, --*Multi-Verse*-- 

  p.s

  I'm pretty sure that they're now stars. Watching over all of us. Making sure that what happened to them doesn't happen to other young kids. I also think that they got put together in star form.