Steve's girlfriend posted on Facebook tonight saying that today was the six-month anniversary of his passing. It's pretty weird- I didn't even think about that at all today. I just went about today like it was any other day- I spent the evening working on my case statement. I didn't think about Steve for any concentrated period at all.

The grieving process is a weird, uneven thing. Right now, I feel oddly calm and accepting about it. Every couple of weeks or so, I get a flare up and it gets pretty bad- I had a bad case of it I believe in April, but it's not an every day, every week thing anymore.

I just don't feel like the same guy I was before it happened, and I'm getting used to the new version of me more. I feel a little more serious, a little less like a bouncy kid, and a little more willing to accept the fact that I'm not 23-year old rager lovin' Jerms anymore, and be okay with that. I'm starting to get used to the fact that I can't call up Steve anymore...even though I still haven't brought myself to delete his number from my phone. I don't know if I ever will. Since I don't have him to call me out on my bullshit now, I kind of have to do it myself and try and cut it out myself.

It's just crazy to think that life really does go on, even though he doesn't get to. His 28th birthday is coming up in early July, but he won't ever be older than 27. I'll turn 29 in six months, but I won't get to bitch with him on the phone about how much I hated that we were all going to be 30 so soon.

The fact that I'm able to talk about him at all without sobbing hysterically drives home the point that time really has passed, and I've moved on, even with the occasional flare-ups. I feel like I've emerged, in some way, from the big haze that I was in during the winter when I was struggling with this. I've even accepted the fact that I'll have these flare-ups, and it'll be okay to have them- times when I feel absolutely lousy and pissed off and I can't do anything about it.

Certain songs I can't listen to anymore without feeling my eyes tear-up, but that's okay as well.

Part of me thinks that I should be a sobbing mess on the floor right now and feels guilty that I didn't even think of Steve until I read his girlfriend's post, but the other part of me has Steve's voice in my head going, "Remmy, stop being such a bitch. It's alright. Live your fucking life already. You'll see me when you see me."

So yeah, it's alright. I'll see him when I see him, just like before, only instead of being measured in summers or in vacation breaks, it'll be in decades. (Hopefully, anyway.)