Yeah - shitty week.
I found out about the crash while I was sitting down to dinner (after what was an excruciating enough day PRIOR to this horrible news). I found out in a series of texts...first came news of a crash...then of the casualties...and then "unconfirmed" reports of who might be on the plane. All the while, I am sitting there thinking "Oh, please don't let it be Derek....please don't let it be Jonathan....please don't let it be Marissa...." and so on...
Then, I found out that it wasn't any of those people. And, I had this odd, split-second sense of relief.
Then I felt like a dick.
Why didn't I think of the people that I knew that were on the plane? Why didn't I hope that it wasn't them? And, after a brief period of beating myself up over that...I stopped. The "who" doesn't matter...the "why" doesn't matter...and (I really wish people would stop focusing on this) the "how" surely doesn't matter. It just sucks. I could tell you very personal stories about each of them (well, three of them...I didn't know Kyle) - but, there's no sense in both of us crying about this. :-) Just know that I am a better person for having known them for a short period.
You want the kicker to the story? Remember I said I was having a pretty bad day before I found out about the crash? Yeah - I spent the day feeling sorry for myself because some girl broke up with me the night before. Now, I am a reasonably well-adjusted 39-year old guy. I keep a pretty even keel - appreciate the good days, shrug off the bad days when I can...but, this girl got under my skin. We "dated" (and, yes, I use that term exceptionally loosely) for about two months....and I let her get to me. All I kept telling myself all day was that I just needed to "snap out of it" and I had a friend tell me that it was OK to have a lousy day feeling sorry for yourself - but, something will come along and make you forget what you're feeling sorry about.
Umm...I guess. But, this might have been a little overkill in that department. God could have sent me a Hooters girl instead of a fiery plane crash - and both would have gotten me past a silly break-up.
Maybe next time.
I do appreciate you thinking of me. It really does mean a lot.
