I've been having an incredibly hard time dealing with Nate's death. At times I feel like I'm falling totally apart. I can't concentrate on what I'm doing, co-workers come into my office to talk to me and I'm staring at my computer crying.
I was leaving the Target parking lot tonight when I heard a man yelling for help. I run towards the yelling as fast as I can, it sounds like he's stuck under a car and dying. I find them suddenly, a black man with short dreadlocks has his knees on a white man's neck. I grab the guy and do the best I can to pull him off the guy, but he's strong and fights me. He yells, "He stole my money!" Pointing at the guy on the ground, shirtless, his torso covered in scratches. He wrestles against me and his black polo shirt tears in my hand. He has crazy eyes. Another man is next to me, trying to get the guy off, too. Suddenly the crazy guy stands up and looks around. We are surrounded by people standing at a safe distance.
The man spins around and looks at me, sees the man standing next to me. The white guy on the ground jumps up and runs away. I'm ready to start punching this one guy in the face, but when the other guy runs away it confused me. I don't want to hit the wrong guy. Then they are both running away, opposite directions. The black guy throws a wad of cash on the ground, the guy who had my back picks it up.
He holds up the money to me, a folded up twenty, asks me if I want it. I tell him no.
We talk to the Target cop. We talk to Target associates, who give us some Starbucks coffee. We talk to a for real police officer who tells us that there's no suspect and no victim, and nothing he can do. I go to the supermarket, bewildered and excited.
I had a really good conversation with Mr. Keen tonight on the phone tonight, and he told me that what's happening now is that I'm learning how to be Robert without Nate, like a dog learning to live with only three legs. He says Someday I'll be happy again, but I need to let it take time, to not be so hard on myself. I find that the only good thing to have come from this is the comraderie Nate has left us with, the rediscovery of the friends and family around us.
Though it feels like something has been cut from me, like there's some open wound somewhere on or in my body, but I can't find where it is.
This is a terrible thing that has happened. I spend all day and all night trying to hold onto him, remembering him, trying to listen to his voice in my head, imagining what kind of new music we'd have made up, the funny jokes we'd tell each other. There are so many questions I want answered. Why do you like motorcycles so much? How does none of your stuff ever break or get old? Do you want to play that new Mario game for the Wii all night sometime?
I find myself trying to make him come back, to find a loophole in this desparate situation, but finding none. There is often a screaming noise in my head, and I often feel like throwing up, but don't. This is the part of the movie where we learn all the terrible things that might have happened if the characters had just acted a certain way, done a few small things differently.
This is the part in the movie where a friend invents a time machine and invites me to go back in time. I go back to Monday October 5, have Nate clear his schedule to hang out with me. We jam in his garage, watch some movies. The next day we decide no to work out like we said we would, and have Dominos deliver us some pizzas and chocolate volcano deserts. Nate lives, fame and fortune, etc.