In Medias Res: Robin
I hate posting non-beauty stuff but it just doesn't feel right to let this pass without acknowledging it. We met and bonded through beauty blogging, so she fucking deserves a place in this blog.
Last March 15, a beautiful friend passed away. I was still trying to process her death when I learned the real circumstances, and then I could no longer say that she merely passed away.
It angers me.
She didn't fall asleep, never to rise, as I'd romanticized in my head.
~"~"~
We were supposed to see each other today, Tuesday, March 17. I remember she was one of the first people to confirm that group date, and was actively rescheduling to accommodate those who were busier. She wanted everyone in it before her overtime work piled up.
Instead of eating steak-all-you-can with a pal, I visited her remains.
Instead of eating steak-all-you-can with a pal, I visited her remains.
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| Where I first met you. I didn't think we'd be friends, I thought you were too timid. You just have a way of endearing yourself to people, huh? |
~"~"~
In medias res (in the middle of things) is a literary device used by authors to narrate a story beginning at the middle, often using flashbacks and nonlinear storytelling. It is used for dramatic effect, to displace the reader in such a way that scenes are deliberately scrambled while suspense is steadily built.
In a way, it also describes my friendship with Robin. I never knew much about her past, just who she was presently and some glimpses of who she hoped to be. Many times since Sunday I wished I'd never known, for now I feel her loss as much as my own.
Perhaps her death hurt more because I knew what she lost. We were not soul sisters nor BFFs but she simply shared her kind heart with me and in doing so, wormed her way into my own.
She told me her worries and pains, and I understood because we were in a similar situation. She told me her hopes and dreams, of finding that one great, true love. I wanted that for her. Robin, so sweet and innocent, who gave the world what it wanted, deserved that love story. She often liked and commented on everyone's SNS posts because she supported everyone and wanted them to feel good all the time.
She deserved that great love story. She didn't deserve this.
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| The last leg of our Paskuhan / Dawn's artwork exhibit. You loved food tripping, and you loved supporting her art. |
In a way, it also describes my friendship with Robin. I never knew much about her past, just who she was presently and some glimpses of who she hoped to be. Many times since Sunday I wished I'd never known, for now I feel her loss as much as my own.
~"~"~
Perhaps her death hurt more because I knew what she lost. We were not soul sisters nor BFFs but she simply shared her kind heart with me and in doing so, wormed her way into my own.
She told me her worries and pains, and I understood because we were in a similar situation. She told me her hopes and dreams, of finding that one great, true love. I wanted that for her. Robin, so sweet and innocent, who gave the world what it wanted, deserved that love story. She often liked and commented on everyone's SNS posts because she supported everyone and wanted them to feel good all the time.
She deserved that great love story. She didn't deserve this.
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| The lights were closing and we set up the frame too long; they turned off just as I clicked the shot. |
~"~"~"
Facebook says we've been friends since November 2013. I'm not ready to end it. I wish we could have gone to Tagaytay. I wish we just fucking went on that damn Banawe food crawl. I wish I could have met that man who would have changed your life.
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| You wanted to take a "cute" photo of me sipping coffee. I blinked (again) and the guy behind our booth wouldn't leave the frame. We had a big laugh over this. |
I stood there, caressing the glass, willing your chest to rise, your dimples to surface and your eyes to twinkle once more. Saying goodbye to you in such a state is so fucking unfair.
I'm still hoping we're just in medias res, Robin.