On my bad days, or days like today, I wish I'd never found River. I wish this day could just be Halloween and I could just enjoy it like I used to. But every year I feel this sadness and pain that won't go away no matter how many years it's been. I know what I feel and it's fucking awful. I can only imagine what his family feel. It wasn't even around this time of year and Joaquin could barely say his name when he accepted his Oscar. But I'll live with this every year and I'll love that I feel this pain because I know it's only matched by the joy, knowledge and beauty River has brought into my life.
I remember when I was just starting to learn about River I was in a very dark time in my life. I was dealing with a lot of heavy things on my own. I bought Last Night at the Viper Room and I remember so vividly taking it out of the post box when it came and being so, idk if excited or intrigued is the word but just a deep desire to be seen. I tore through that book like I hadn't with a book in a long while. I remember reading it and having to put it down and look up at the sky so many times because I couldn't believe my fucking eyes. I couldn't believe a human so complex, so contradictory, could be such a clear reflection of myself. The thing I remember the most is his fake name in hotels being Earl Grey and that's my favourite kind of tea. This will sound crazy but there was a time when I used it like a Bible. When I wanted to make a decision I'd flip through it, see what page it landed on and feel like he was giving me a sign as to what to do. The point is when I read it I didn't feel alone anymore. I didn't feel as confused and that I had no direction. I felt like I had a guide.
This post would go on forever if I listed the parallels between me and River, especially with the way we treated people, and the way we treated ourselves. The trappings we had in life and the expectations we had to live up to. I know why he left the way he did. I understand it deeply. But as much as I understand him, he's taught me a lot. About actually giving a shit. About speaking out. About doing something. About helping people even when you're struggling to help yourself. He's taught me how to find beauty in life, even when you're suffering. How to immerse yourself and give your all, and dedicate yourself to things and people you care about. To be a guiding light for people when they don't know their path or they're losing their way. This might sound like I'm talking badly about him but I want to tell the truth about him.
He also taught me you don't have to be a saint to do all that. I think a lot of people think in black or white. You're either a saint or you're a sinner. But he taught me that's not true. You don't have live a squeaky clean life to still be a good person. You just have to do good things. That might sound a bit fucked up but it was what I needed to know. It's who he was and it's what he taught me. That your own flaws don't have to dictate the way you live your life. You can be a mess but you don't have to make people live in that mess with you, you can still try and do the right thing.
I miss him all the time. I wish he was still here even though I understand why he's not. We live in a brutal brutal world. And not everyone is made for it. Especially the kind, empathetic and smart people. It's tough to get through, especially when you feel like your hands are tied. But he gave us his all. And for that I can never say how grateful I am. I hope wherever his is he's finally found peace. And most of all I hope that he knows one of his biggest fears didn't come true. He is remembered for his bold choices, his fierce advocacy, and his revolutionary art.
