Graves and Birthdays

The end of August through the end of September is a weird time of the years for me. Fall was always my favorite time - I love Fall holidays and I loved school starting and my birthday is at the end of September.
My best friend in middle school was Marshall Estes. In 6th grade we were both outsiders and are names were next to each other, so we sat together and had touching lockers. Plus we were born 24 hours apart, so we celebrated together. We stopped speaking in 8th grade and I never really saw him after that. He called sometimes and we would talk a little - but we had grown up and were different.
August 16th 2005 Marshall overdosed and died. His funeral was freshman move-in day so I didn't go. I didn't know what I would have said - he had other friends by then.
My birthday is always sad now. I love fall but I hate it. It brings memories of middle school when Marshall locked me in his locker and the janitor had to get me out and our joint birthdays - he gave me a Betty Boop clock that finally broke 2 years ago. I only have 2 pictures of us. One is a polaroid that you can barely see and the other is of Marshall spinning me at our first dance.
He was the first person who didn't think I was weird for having such a dirty sense of humor or for just doing weird things all the time. He thought it was great.
I wish I'd said goodbye.
I was feeling super morbid I guess and went internet stalking my grandfather last week. No one in my family talks about him or has pictures of him. Last week my Aunt finally found 3 pictures in her wedding album that my grandmother didn't burn. I'd never seen him before. He looks different than I thought he would.
I've been bugging my family for years to find out where he was buried. Not one person in my family went to the funeral or read his obituary. I finally found a record of his 2nd wife's death and found the cemetery. Part of me wants to see it - but what would I do with a gravestone of a man I never knew? I'd rather go see Marshall.
I hate this time of year - it make me think about death - I swear I'm not usually this morbid. At least I hope I'm not because it's kind of creepy.