It’s so nice to see everyone—what a crowd. I know that if Sarah were still single, and not currently at her boyfriend’s place redecorating his living room, she would have loved to be here today.
A lot of people didn’t see this coming. It feels like just the other day, we were doing a round of tequila shots to mourn her last boyfriend, Greg, a man with a back tattoo that read, “The only constant is change.” And after they broke up, it seemed like things would be different. I thought Sarah was finally free.
But as we all know too well—Greg most of all—life changes constantly. Still, who could have predicted that Josh would be at the bar that same night for a karaoke birthday party, waiting patiently for his turn to sing “Baby Got Back”?
He seemed harmless enough, at first. I certainly never thought this romance would last beyond a single night. None of us did. But the next morning, Sarah wasn’t answering any of my texts asking her how it went, and I sensed something was amiss. Even though I was obviously still tracking her on Find My Friends, I knew that Sarah was gone.
It began slowly. She would miss Sunday brunch, or take several days to respond to a hilarious meme I sent her. I mean, the dog was passed out on a couch, insisting that he would start his diet the following day. How could she not find that funny? None of it made sense.
I know that if Sarah were here like she’d said she would be, she’d want us to remember the good times, which is why I’ve prepared this photo montage. If some of you aren’t included in it, please remember that this day isn’t about you. It’s about my loss. It’s also about remembering those moments from when my hair looked really good after that new haircut last month.
Sarah’s parents, Rob and Sharon, were asked to say a few words, but they refused because they “actually really like Josh” and “think this event is a huge waste of money.” It’s times like these when you realize who is really there for you, which is why I’d like to thank all the friends and family who have been so supportive during this difficult period, particularly old college pals whom I’d forgotten lived nearby and agreed to meet for drinks. You guys are great, and I’m thrilled to be joining your amateur bowling league.
Well, I guess I should start wrapping this up. I don’t want to cut into anyone else’s time, especially Andrei, our kind landlord, who gave Sarah a four-dollar Starbucks gift card once for Christmas, or Mr. Davis, Sarah’s high-school English teacher, who congratulates her on work anniversaries on LinkedIn, year after year, without fail.
It still just feels so surreal. Do I miss her sometimes? Of course. Ever since she told me it looked like she and Josh were “probably together,” a week ago, I’ve been a wreck. But I console myself with the knowledge that everything is going to be O.K. because she’s in a better place now. A place where she doesn’t have to worry about making ironic Valentine’s Day plans or thinking of clever Hinge answers. I know it’s time to move on. But occasionally, when she likes one of my Instagram posts, it’s almost like I can feel her smiling down at me.