Surely there had to be a way to feel okay.

The funeral for Tyler was yesterday at 11:00 A.M. at the Garnand Funeral Home. We showed up pretty much right when it was starting so we didn't even get a seat. We stood in the entranceway and listened to the service from there. The entranceway was actually really full too, so I guess if we were a couple minutes later we might not have fit inside. It was a nice service, they had (what looked like) hundreds of photographs of him up for display taken from his myspace and everyone else's who had a picture with him in it. It didn't feel right though. I couldn't bring myself to believe he was no longer going to be with us, not until we got to the burial at the Syracuse cemetery.
I didn't know what to say to anyone. Nothing seemed normal. I stared at all the faces of people I once knew very well but weren't so familiar anymore. It was awkward but nice at the same time. So many people whom I had so many things to say to, but not a word would flow past my lips. And I thought: It's sad that here, I'm reunited with all the people I used to be really good friends with and I probably wouldn't have talked to any of these people in a long time, and I know they wouldn't have gone out of their way to talk to me, if it weren't for all of us being here because our good friend Tyler died. It's sad that it takes something like this to bring people together because we don't care enough to keep in touch. It's sad that no matter hard you try things will never go back to the way they used to be. It's sad that we forget to tell people how much they mean to us until it's too late, and then you can only hope they knew all along that they meant more to you than what you lead on. It's sad that all I can do is write about this.
This song by Terminal called "Foster" has been stuck in my head all day at work. I couldn't help it and I couldn't get it out of my head. And it's making me sick.