The Girl in the Funeral Parlor

 

This story was a tough read. It wasn’t difficult to understand, it just hit close to home in a strange way.

I’m currently going through the worst break up in the world. When professor Weller talked about how Catherine was his soul mate, it ripped my own soul in half. This break up isn’t necessarily ugly, but I suppose that’s what makes it even harder.

Just like he “knew” her his whole life, I have literally known her my whole life; or at least most of it. I first met her when I was six, when she moved into the house next-door to mine. Throughout elementary school, middle school, and two years of high school, we were best friends. We told each other everything and anything. As we got older, we discovered we had feelings for each other, and we fell for each other harder than anyone ever could. We had been building up a powerful relationship since the ages of five. The fact that we started dating wasn’t a surprise to anyone, especially my mother. Regardless, she and I were inseparable… until we weren’t.

We had a “mutual” break-up, meaning that I agreed with her that we should “discover ourselves as individuals.” I wanted to tell her the truth:

“I already know who the fuck I am. I’m Theodore Paul Li-fuckin-pari. I don’t need time away from you, I need more time with you! You’re my everything! Can’t you fucking see that?!”

Although, all I care about is what makes her happy. If she needs time to figure out who she is, then who am I to hold her back? I’m just a lifelong best friend. I’m just her first love, her first kiss, her one-and-only. That’s who she is to me too. But much like Catherine, I suppose she is dead, in the metaphorical sense of course. I guess what this story taught me is that I have to move on. I can travel to speak to her mother, talk about how I feel, take phone records to find her exact address in Michigan, but it won’t change the fact that she still won’t be mine. (Theodore Lipari/COS Student)

 

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