Happy Birthday, Bar...

                                             Sunny funeral day.


So today is his birthday. The pain has subsided over the course of two years - but the memories remain. His picture's still on top of my desk; watching over my room like a true guardian. I take it down from time to time, shake my head and say a prayer silently under my breath. I miss him. 

                                       His burial site... 


I miss his laugh, I miss the way his pigeon-toed feet would drag across the ground, slow and paced. I miss our walks to the park, talks about nothing. Basketball days in elementary school - my first boy crush. Who knew we'd become such good friends? Remember Anthony Smith? Lol. Wonder where that fool is now. Looking forward to seeing into him when I came home to visit. There was a point in time when I wasn't even allowed to talk to him. My ex wouldn't allow me to even walk down his block once he found out where he lived. It was a painful feeling, for sure. We'd walk past each other on the Avenue - secretly exchange waves. To miss out on a best friend like that hurts - and I regret allowing it to happen for so long. I could have been there that night when he was attacked. I could have helped him. It shouldn't have been that I was only allowed to see him because he was hurt and near death. It was an unfair situation. So many years wasted. Now I can only talk to him in my thoughts. 


Two years later - and my life has been totally changed. Partially because of losing him, partially because of the turbulent series of events that took place after. Uncle C. committing suicide sealed the deal. My world spiraled out of control from that point on - and I'm paying the consequences to this day. I won't blame him - it's not his fault they attacked him. I blame myself for being unable to cope. All I can do now is celebrate his life. 


Bar - if you're in that computer cafe in the sky reading this - just know that I love you. I love you for your calm demeanor, your ability to make light of any situation. I love you for being my friend through everything, respecting my decisions and understanding my choices. I love you for never forgetting me - even when you moved away and came back. I love you for letting me know that you loved me back - even while hooked up to machinery and iv's. When you squeezed my hand that day - you gave me hope. Hope that life can continue through whatever hard times we may face. I love you for being yourself. 

I will never forget you, my good friend. No one will. How could they? You were the last of a dying breed: loyal, caring and true friends. We need more people like you on this earth. I hope to keep you alive by remaining a good person, maybe rubbing off on someone else and perpetuating your spirit. Muhammad Bylik Etheridge - til we meet again... 

Check out my tribute tattoo here...