Thoughts on Justin Key

It's 6:30 on Christmas Eve and I wake up knowing that it's time to say goodbye. I roll over, trying to ignore it. I'm not ready. It's not time yet. Sleep alludes me and my brain won't stop whirring; so. After an hour, I pull myself up and tiptoe silently downstairs, wrap myself in a blanket, and write.

For more than a week I've been walking around with a stomach ache that feels like when you leave for the airport and know that you've forgotten something...or lost something.
The last time I saw Justin was in 2008, December of 2008. I think he was wearing blue. Whenever I imagine Justin dressed up, I imagine blue. It's what he was wearing the first time I saw him in formal attire...which was in December of 2002.

I was wearing white. He told me I looked beautiful and he gave me a hug.

A week before that we got a drink together. We had laughed when we met up because we were both wearing tan trench coats. We'd grown up, at least in our fashion. He wanted to try a Vesper because he'd just seen the most recent (the most recent at that time...) James Bond. The bartender didn't know how to make them. He flirted with her anyway. I gave him advice on girls, he told me about his job. He gave me a hug.

We fell out of touch after that. I guess dynamics change in friendships between boys and girls when girls get married. Maybe we were both too busy and preoccupied to give it much though. Life grabs you and propels you onward, despite how much you struggle. I called him six months later demanding an update, but then I found out he was in Africa.
We spoke a month ago for a few minutes catching up.

Him: Darden, homework, happiness, insanity
Me: house, husband, kitties, happiness.
We said we would stay in touch.

My mother called me last Tuesday in the middle of a long weekend in Arizona. I always know when something is wrong. My mother will call my husband's phone as well as mine if I don't answer. She'll leave a cryptic message about how I need to call now!

Mom: How are you
Me: (Pause) fine
Mom: You sound like you have a cold
Me: Yeah...
Mom: (Deep breath) I have some very bad news.

Idle thought: Funny they have a phone signal at my parent-in-law's condo in Flagstaff. (okay, not weird at all). They don't have wi-fi.

Mom: Have you heard about Justin?
Me: NO

I cling to the moments before I hear what I dread is coming. He's in a coma? He broke both legs? He has a cold?

I met Justin on a mission trip to Mexico, over massive orange fresh water coolers. I will be eternally grateful that water in Mexico can give you parasites.

Things you learn in your first 30 second conversation with Justin: He is beautiful, he is brilliant, he is sarcastic, and your life will never be the same. He slayed me.

While still in Mexico I learned his SAT score and that he could lift me, flip me, and shake me by my ankles.

He invited me to Crossroads and I became a regular attendee. I fell into a different group of friends, but we stayed close with regular coffee, phone calls, and emails.

Things changed when we went our separate ways for college. We hung out during summers and Christmas. There were still phone calls and emails. He had a crazy knack for calling me when I was about to do something stupid.

Things you learn about Justin after you've known him for awhile: He is more brilliant than you first thought, he is absolutely sincere, he's not perfect, he has an unquenchable thirst for learning and faith, you will never meet anyone like him, you will never be hugged by anyone else like Justin hugs you.

Some of my favorite Justin memories:
Wandering through Redmond Town Center around Christmas after the shops closed almost every year, listening to classical music pumping through speakers, talking about life.
Going to Disneyland together, you bugged me all day to wear sunblock. I insisted that I wouldn't get burnt. You were right of course.
When the dance instructors didn't show up to Raeleen and Andy's wedding and we taught the guests basic swing steps. And then, since you were much better at salsa; trying to dance salsa to swing music.
When you came to my dance concert even though you thought it would be weird to come alone and "stare at girls in leotards."
Our crazy emails where we write back and forth in the margins until they become so confusing that one of us (usually me) gives up and starts over.
Your smile.

Why would my mother call me if Justin has a cold?

They say your life passes before your eyes before you die. It would seem that happens as well when you are given information you can't quite handle. I know that in a heart-beat I was watching a slow motion vision of my life as I had known it, sliding away, replaced with stark reality.

My mother can't speak when she's crying. I inherited that from her.

I haven't spoken a lot this week and a half.

I don't know how to end these thoughts. Perhaps with something more upbeat. I suppose it makes sense to say that I know that you are happier now than you could ever be here. You have achieved what you wanted to achieve (I know, I read your book). You became the man you were meant to be.

I am aware that I have been selfish, carrying you around in my sorrow and grief.

So, I say goodbye my dear, beautiful friend. My life has been changed, bettered, because of your presence. I will remember Decembers.

Booyah and love and stuff.