The Grief of True Death
When I was 13, my closest friend died. He didn’t know it but, I considered him my best friend. He was someone who didn’t shy away from the darkness like most people would, keeping me at arm’s length when I would discuss what was going on at home. I think he was the first person I ever told I was self harming. He was the first person I went to, and felt safe talking to, about my mental health.
He was a pubescent boy, just like I, and he got me in a way other people didn’t. When he died, I was heartbroken. It was such a deep wound for me that at twenty two, I’m just getting around to feeling it fully. I’m grateful to remember, but there is so much pain here.
When I was thirteen, my best friend died. And no one knew he was my best friend, but me. I had other friends who were my “ride or die’s” but, no one ‘liked’ me beneath the surface. I know that now. I know that’s why they scrunched up their faces at me, why they bullied the shit out of me, why they treated me like a human garbage can. I was always brave, always boldly myself, and it got me into so much trouble. Shit, it still gets me into trouble, but I’m an adult now, and just a bit taller so, that helps for sure.
When I was twelve, the chorus I was in sang the poem “In Flander’s Fields,” at an event. My teacher asked me specifically to help with changing up the rhymes to fit a song and, I remember her assuring me that I was great at writing. It was the first time I ever felt recognized for my words and truth, rather than just who I camouflaged as for safety. I had this feeling I’d rewrite it again, someday, all on my own. And well, here I am. This song’s for you, Brennan Carr.
If I could do things over, I’d tell him how much his presence meant to me. How much I appreciated him listening to me, deeply, and as often as he could. I would remind him that people loved him, and still love him, and hope he would stay. But I know that he wouldn’t, regardless. What happened is already set in stone.
Instead of wishing he were still alive, I could wish that the assholes who treated him like shit got what they deserved but, that doesn’t feel quite right either. I don’t want to be someone who plays God, someone who enacts Justice for all, who has to right the wrongs of humanity.
But sometimes, it feels like that’s what I’m here for. And that scares the everliving shit out of me. Because I’m still holding onto this hurt. I’m still blaming myself for the fact that my best friend killed himself. I’m blaming myself for not being honest before things were too late and I got the call. I’m blaming myself for the way I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone about what was going on. I still think I could have done more as a powerful little thirteen year old but, it just wasn’t my time. That, I feel at heart center.
I still think about him, because I cared. and honestly, I think it felt like rejection when he died. Confirmation that I would never find someone who would stay for my darkness, not just my light. I feel it’s different now but, who can say for sure with everything going on? If someone else I love dies, I don’t want to take it personally. For my own sake, I need to let this go. Cognitive distortions suck.
And honestly, I hope he hears this. I hope he knows I’m thinking about him, and still being the cynical knight-in-sour-armor I’ve always been. Because that, I’m not ready to give up yet. I don’t know if I ever will, I fucking LOVE being a wiseass. I love being weird. I love being a freak of nature, an eldritch abomination in human skin. But I do want to let go of my responsibility here. Because after all, I was just a kid. I didn’t have the context that I do now, as an adult. I just had a feeling. And I can trust those, now. I could trust those then, too. I just didn’t have the perception stats to realize at the time.
And it’s not, “I can trust myself to not let anyone die.” How fucking idealistic that would be of me! Like, checks out but, Gods have I grown! People get hurt. People die. And I’ve learned to celebrate this. To deny this as a part of life, would make everything feel off-colored in a way I don’t jive with. Where would the drama be if everyone wasn’t living for something? Why would I want to do anything, to change, how would people do anything good if we just stayed flat, 2-dimensional beings our whole lives?
But that something to live for, for me, can’t be keeping everyone alive. That’s just a winding path, off a cliff, into a trench where I never see myself clearly again. That’s a one-way trip to the worst kind of nihilism and, I’m not taking that chance. There is so much more to live for, than the fear and panic and terror you feel on the daily. There is still hope. And I’m so very sorry that your hope was shattered here, but I’m here now to help pick up the pieces. Let’s kintsugi that shit.
And like, the lessons, too. I hate to give myself a lecture here, but I promise this is supposed to be a pep talk— If everything is sunshine and rainbows, then that means you have to had gone through the lightning, thunder, etc to get there. Rainbows don’t just happen. Miracles, they’re intentional. They need to be created.
So yeah, I’m happy here and now. Yes, this hurts. Yes, this is a bastard of a wound to heal, but I also know for certain that I’ve got this. That you’ve got this, when you’re here. Try to enjoy being a kid for a while, at least, now that you know that sunshine even exists for real on the other side. I love you, but you do need to learn one thing— When you’re out of hell, you can unclench that asshole. Pullll the stick out. Try to find that joy again. It’s going to be triggering, you’re going to hate every second of it, but healing that shit does work once you’re out. Or so help me Gods, I wouldn’t be writing this to you right now.
Anyway, I love you. I promise that Brennan won’t blame you for any of this. I promise I’m taking care of myself here and now. I promise I’m celebrating all of the lost souls, these days, as much as I can. I promise that what you think might be giving up, is actually the first step to unraveling, and this beautiful journey you’re about to go on. I promise you’ll remember how much you love yourself by the time you’re here. Alright? Kisses. See you soon. <3
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