Sunday, February 3, 2013

To you, Love, me

Dear Jon,

At around 1 am tonight, I know I will wake up.  I don't want to, but I know I will.  My heart and my subconcious mind will force me to.  They will force me to remember that exactly 1 year ago, I heard your very last words: "I love you more than life itself."  And too soon after that, I heard your very last heart beat.

I obviously think the year anniversary deserves a blog post, but I couldn't stand the thought of sitting here, saying how difficult it is, and explaining my saddness to nameless viewers.  They've read it all before.  It's hard to explain but venting to them isn't what I really need.  Because it's about you.  It's about losing you, losing a huge part of me, losing the life I thought I'd have.  And as heartwarming as people's sympathies are, they are not what I need.

What I need is your voice, your words.  I want to know what you think, where you are, what you're doing.  I want to sit and talk shit about everyone around us like we always did.  I want you to finish my sentences, agree with me that it sucks that you're not able to be with me anymore, and then I need you to tell me it's going to be ok. I need you to flash me one of those million dollar, twinkly blue-eyed smiles, squeeze my hand, tell me you like my "love" tattoo that I got in your handwriting, and that you'll always be with me.

I miss my best friend.  It's bizarre, but I guess I never really let the finality of it all truly sink in.  I obviously recognize that you died, that we can't be together.  I just thought I'd somehow still be able to talk to you.  It sounds ridiculous, I guess.  But to think that the world will never see your face again or hear your voice...to think that I will never be able to hug you... just all seems so final.  Even 365 days later, it makes no sense.  So I'm writing you this letter.  And I do know that you'll find a way to respond... somehow, some way.

Is it vain of me to think you know what's going on in my life? I like to think you watch over me, that you sort of guide me, and probably also critique a lot of my moves. I also partially blame you for pointing me in some wrong directions shortly after you left.  Or maybe just not doing anything other-worldy to intervene.  I know you just were trying to help me feel better.  But where I am now, I love.  And I know you brought me here.  I also know you have a bunch of people to look after, so thanks. :)

Is it weird for me to talk to you about Danny? I know you sent him to me.  You knew he would love me, and more importantly, that I would love him more deeply than I ever imagined I could love someone.  I know you must be sad that you and I didn't get to have the life we wanted, but I imagine you have complete clarity now...that it somehow makes sense to you. There was a time I was so convinced I'd never be happy again, and Danny has changed that entirely.

It's hard to believe a year ago today I was saying goodbye to you.  This year has changed me so much.  I feel like there's so much to tell you.

You know what makes me laugh sometimes? I hear your silly voices in my head.  Or I crack up at a the 1877 Cars-4-KIDS radio commercial.  Bc we both freakin' hated it.  I listen to "Better" and all I can picture is you playing it on your keyboard in your room...and me video taping it...and you getting mad...and making me delete it.  I wish I still had it now.

For the most part, I have a hard time watching videos of the two of us.  It forces my heart to feel too much...to remember what's been lost. I am one big barrell of defense mechanisms.  I can sit here and write about the bad memories and even talk about them, but I have severed the connection that tells me all of this stuff actually happened to us...to you...to me.  The worst part is my brain has a hard time letting me remember good stuff, too.  There's too much emotion, too many memories.  It's like it only allows me to remember so much before my attention span makes me focus on something else.  Yeah, yeah I know...you're a big believer in therapists... but you know how you just get tired sometimes? Tired of making yourself talk and remember?

I started school this week.  It was probably the hardest thing I've had to do in a long time.  Besides my usual nerd-anxiety, it was just hard.  Being there, remembering last year and the last time I ws there, was just really really hard.  I know you wanted me to finish school.  I like to think you're proud of me.

I want you to know I never forget you.  You are on my mind so much, and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of you.  I think we both were really lucky to have had the time we had together.  That doesn't mean I'm not pissed as hell that your time was cut short.  If anyone could have changed the world, it was you.

When I think of exactly 1 year ago, the main thing I remember about you dying, is that all I kept saying over and over in my head was that I needed to make sure you weren't afraid.  And also asking God, if he was listening in those moments, to please not make it drag out too long.  Because you at least deserved a peaceful exit...and for the selfish reason that I didn't think I could handle much more.  I wish you could tell me I did a good job...that I made you feel safe and loved and as fearless as you could have been in those moments.

I will never truly get over you..  I will always talk about you.  I will always carry you with me.  You will forever be the bravest person I've ever known.  You will always be the person who impacted my life the most.  You will always be with me.  I promise to always make up silly songs.  I promise to never stop laughing at our inside jokes.  I promise to try to use correct grammar.   I promise to try to be the person you saw in me. I promise to try and like the Super Bowl. I promise to love the way you taught me to...intensely... unconditionally...and live the way you showed me...without fear..

I will always love you.

Till the year 4001.

Laciface

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