My Friend Died Today

My friend died today. I feel terrible about this. I hate that she died at only 29. I hate that she was sick and in pain for two years before it happened. I have tried to be supportive for the other friends she left behind, but right now, in this space, I am going to be selfish. I am going to indulge in thoughts of how this makes ME feel.
She was in my class. She was my age. She was reaching for the same career I am. I often think about how I’m putting my life on hold for my career goals. I hate that feeling, and things like this remind me why I hate it so much. My life is happening now and I’m missing it and it could end at any minute and what will I have accomplished? There are so many things that I want to do that I don’t because I’m so focused on this goal to the exclusion of all else. There are myriad silly things that I choose not to do. There are larger things…relationships and life experiences…that I say, “that’ll just have to wait.” Now my friend is dead and there are so many things she didn’t do. She was going to travel the world and bring healthcare to the people who need it most. She was going to get married and have a family. Lot’s of other things, but those are some I remember her talking about. She didn’t get to do those things and I’m not doing my “things” either. She also never had sex. She was waiting until marriage because that’s what her church and her family taught her to do. I am angry at her church for causing her to miss that experience. It’s only one small thing in a lifetime of experiences that she didn’t get to do, but it’s one that bugs me a lot because I feel like it’s one that she actually COULD have had if religion hadn’t gotten in her way. Sexual pleasure of any kind is off limits until you are ready to procreate. That’s such bullshit.
I hate religion for countless reasons, not the least of which is the fact that my friend never got the chance to explore her own sexuality, but here’s the thing…her faith was so strong that she didn’t fear death. She was comforted and serene in the knowledge that she would go to heaven. I’m grateful that she had that. I’m grateful that her family has the comfort of “knowing” they’ll see their child again. Now, back to the selfish stuff…
I am grieving, not for the loss of my friend, but for the loss of my own faith. When she died I got a message saying, “she’s in heaven now.” I stared at those words for a long time and all I kept thinking was, “I don’t believe that’s true.” I stopped believing in God a long time ago, I think, but I still have a really hard time acknowledging that fact. Look, I can’t even type the word with a lower case “g.” God…God…god…there. I did it.
There’s a child inside me who is really terrified right now. That child spent years learning that to not believe in god meant that she would go to hell. That’s a scary place, and it’s forever. That child is still inside me. She still knows all the prayers. She still feels guilty when she sins. She knows what sins are, she learned them by heart. That child is frightened and angry at the loss of her safety net. Faith is so comforting, and I’ve taken it away from the little girl inside me. I lost my faith a long time ago, but today I said it out loud, and the little girl inside heard me. I said the rosary today. The words came to my lips without thought. You don’t lose some things, even if you don’t realize they’re still there, and the words spilled out. I said the rosary for my friend who is dead and for the child inside me who lost her faith. I said it as a farewell.