Ben and I at Cafe Smyrna in Instanbul
I met Ben at Lucky Bar in D.C. A friend in common, Krissy, had invited both of us. Ben was actually there to meet another of Krissy’s friends, in the hope that they would hit it off. But she didn’t show. Ben and I, however, did hit it off. In classic Mt. Pleasant fashion, we had our first date at the Raven. We talked easily, found we had a similar sense of humor, a mutual love of language, and a connection that was unmistakable. It was that connection that took us as far away as Istanbul and Machu Picchu, but most often found us sharing stories between drinks at Tonic. He lived in Mt. Pleasant for a long time, and often said it was his favorite part of D.C. I suppose, in that sense, it’s kind of fitting that he passed away here too.
I’m not going to sugar coat this. I miss him so much it feels like my heart is being repeatedly dragged over a bed of nails. Crying randomly and in public is currently unavoidable. It’s not fair. Even though I’ve read and been interviewed for news stories, it still doesn’t seem real. I pinched myself twice yesterday. I’m still hoping, desperately, to wake up from this hell.
Ben and Me in the Plaza de Armas, in Cuzco, Peru
I know I won’t though. This is my new life. One without my best friend. We stopped dating a while ago, but we never lost our love for each other. We had a friendship that I will cherish for the rest of my days. Ben was there for me every time I needed him, without judgment and with all his heart. We talked every day and told each other everything. He was my emotional emergency contact. He was family. Where do you go when your go-to friend dies?
Ben and his dog Cordelia
I know things will get better, and that eventually there will be a day when I don’t cry. But that day will still be a day without Ben. I owe him more than my tears though. I owe it to a man who lived life with 110% passion to make these days count. He died far too young, but anyone who knew him knew he lived every day of his 35 years with his heart on his sleeve and caution thrown to the wind. I don’t know when my time will be up, but I will damn well make sure that every second counts. It’s the least I can do to honor my friend.
Knowing him was a gift and I will cherish my time with him always.
I love you Ben.
Ben and his dad, Zahir
Beautiful, Colleen! You can go to the community that Ben created just by being Ben. We are everywhere.
Love,
Jen
Thanks Jen!
I was only lucky enough to hang with Ben a handful of times throughout the years, but I was always excited to see him, and always knew that good times were ahead whenever we found ourselves out with mutual friends. This tragic, unbelievable act of nature that took his life is so shocking that I can do nothing but commit myself to living every day like it’s my last. It’s the same way Ben lived, and it’s the way we all should. Thanks for this post Colleen…and may he continue to shine on us all, just like he did on Earth.
Love.
Beautiful tribute chica. You and Ben were certainly kindred spirits and it was evident being around you both for even just a moment that he felt the same way about you. I can’t express how sorry I am that this happened–it’s unfathomable. He would be so grateful knowing you are sharing your expression of how much he meant to you and all the support you are providing his family. Ben shines on indeed.
Thanks Melinda