It's nearly been two years.

A friend of mine died in October of 2010 while working on a movie in Virginia. I wasn't best friends with him, but I really liked spending time in his company. He was the head of a 17th century pirate reenacting group, and I ended up being a part of that. I was also in a civil war movie thanks to him.

I don't know why, but I haven't really recovered from his passing. I miss him in that I'm angry he's not here anymore. I'm also jealous that he had accomplished more by that point in his live than I have, now that I'm 26. And what's sad about this is I didn't feel that I was one of his best friends, but that distinction didn't seem to matter so much to him. I remember the last conversation I had with him was over a text message - I had it saved on my phone up until that phone broke last year. He said he was working on a movie, and he missed all the friends he left in Pennsylvania. It was about a week before he died on set.

I'm currently best friends with his best friend, and we three used to blacksmith with each other. My friend's older brother, another friend of our late "captain," recently published a book about having lost him in 2010.

I feel as though I have intangible obstacles in my way, preventing me from the successes that I see in my friend's lives. They seemed spurred on by his passing. And while I'm impassioned, I feel weak. Physically and mentally.

Reflecting on this and my recent dealings with a huge online auction site, I'm beginning to feel powerless. I'm unsure of what change I can affect on this world.