eighteen

{ I hesitate to even write this and put it out there for others because really, it is for me. It's part of my grieving and part of my healing. Yet, I do put it out there because I want people to remember the importance of human connection. Connection not through email and text, and yes even blogs, but the real thing. Connection through the human spirit. }

My muse awakens me in the night and I must write…
Why do these memories flood back to me everyday, why can’t I just forget? Why, now, do I think of you every day when I haven’t seen or thought of you for years? Why can’t I just forget. Why can’t I believe that you are gone? Are you really gone? You seem so real to me in my dreams, in my thoughts, in my pictures and in my memories. And yet all the proof is there, you are gone. I’m part realist and have to believe it. Yet I’m part dreamer and don’t want it to be real. Wasn’t it all just a bad dream. Wasn’t it just yesterday that you took me driving on the country roads singing me your favorites like Hank and Bread and Jim? Now I hear those favorites and it is impossible for me to forget. You are still here. You are still here when I listen to the radio and hear these songs. You are still here when I see my little boy and I think of your little boy and I wonder if he’s already forgotten. Has he forgotten or will have these sudden memories like I have these sudden memories and we somehow you just keep holding on. We can't forget. You appear from nowhere. You are a smell or a sound. You are a whisper or a song. You are a picture that I see. I miss you. How is it possible that I miss you now more than ever. When was the last time I saw you? August 2003. Has it really been that long? I haven’t seen you for years yet for all that time that I didn’t see you and I didn’t think of you, you were a part of me… all along. You were a part of me all that time because a long time ago, you were the part of me that helped me survive. You were the part of me that got me through. I called you my boyfriend and you called me your girlfriend, but was that really what we were? After you no longer called me your girlfriend and I no longer called you my boyfriend, we laughed at the thought of it. We were best friends is what we really were. We talked and we talked and we talked and talked so much that I got grounded from the phone “until spring.” And we found ways to talk more and you became my best friend. The person I trusted more than any other person and you were the person that I needed to be there for me. I told you that you were my “strength when I was weak, you were my voice when I couldn’t speak, you were my eyes when I couldn’t see, you saw the bester there was in me, you lifted me up when I couldn’t reach, you gave me faith because you believed, I’m everything I am because you loved me.” You loved me in a way that was different than anyone had loved me before. You loved me for who I was and who I was going to become. But where was I when you needed me? You reached out to me. I tried to reach back but I feel like I pressured you and was too bossy and too pushy. And I feel like I let you down. I wasn’t there for you in the way you needed me to be. Where was I? Why couldn’t I figure out the way for me to be there for you that was right for you? Why wasn’t I your strength, your voice, your eyes. Why didn’t I see the best in you and help you to become everything you needed to be? What happened? Did life happen? It seems so easy to toss it aside and say life happened. Life happened and I wasn’t there for you. I thought you would be fine. I thought you were okay. How could life happen like this? You were so many things to me and I let you down and now you aren’t here. How could you leave like this? I didn’t even know you anymore? I didn’t know your dreams and troubles. I didn’t know your anxious or gave you reassurance. How does that happen? How does life just happen? And then when life no longer happens, death happens. And when death happens all we are left with is questions. Why? How? What? Why? Why? Why!