Trouble Weighs a Ton

It's been two years. It doesn't get easier. I am adapting well to dealing with loss. It's getting easier for me to smile, nod, and pretend that everything is cake. I have everyone else fooled, and am even starting to believe my own lies. I'm not sure if that is an automatic self-defense mechanism, a sign of progressing as an adult, or if it's a sign that I'm becoming cold and closed-off to people and emotions. Either way, here I am. Well adjusted. Happy. Unbroken.
This is me, lying to myself.


You were so kind, all the time. We spent countless hours walking, talking, sharing and growing. I trusted you. I loved you. You could make me laugh when I wanted nothing more than to cry. You kept me afloat when I had been abandoned. You were always on my side, even when I was obviously in the wrong. You were a big piece of my life for many of the most influential years of my life, and I know that I was a big piece of yours. Simple things remind me of places we went, things we did, things that you said, lessons that you taught me, and the way you were.
These are my memories.

The lies that were told that caused you to feel so alone and cornered, that made you feel like you had no reasonable way out...I get so upset at just the thought. The way they moved on so quickly afterwards totally blows me away.
This is my anger.


They didn't give you a funeral. There were no final farewells. No opportunity for a good-bye to my dear friend. No obituary in the paper. They were ashamed - they tried to hide their own regrets by not acknowledging your death. In doing so, they failed to celebrate your life. Your body was discarded quickly, so as to avoid the inconvenience of having a burial or scattering-of-the-ashes ceremony. I have no place to seek refuge from those who don't know and don't understand. No place to visit and reminisce. No place to be alone and confide in you.
This is my sadness.


I spoke to you mere hours before we lost you. You came to see me at work that night. You cried and told me that you would miss me. I didn't understand then what you meant. I didn't understand that I may have been able to save you. I know I couldn't take your pain away from you, and expecting you to live with the physical, emotional and mental pain for my own selfish desire to hold on to you as long as possible, was wrong. I wish I could have helped to alleviate some of the loneliness you felt. I never wanted you to die feeling alone.
This is my regret.


We were together the weekend before you left. Our friends, enjoying the canyons that you loved so much. The changing of the leaves, the crisp smell of fall in the air. You loved this time of year. Your birthday was coming up soon. I was tired from trying so hard to keep you happy. I should have been more attentive. I took you for granted. I didn't know that this would be the last time I would see you smiling. We took no pictures together, because you were embarrassed of your scars. I would have insisted on at least one if I knew I wouldn't get another chance.
This is my shame.


Words that were said in total desperation and loneliness that I disregarded - they haunt me still. I know you didn't mean any of it. Still, I can't ever tell anyone the things that you confided in me, for fear of affecting the way people thought of you. You can always trust in me. I will take your secrets to my grave, and this is my promise to you.
I look forward to the Autumn season, but once it's here I can't wait for it to be gone. It used to be filled with excitement and celebrations. Now it's the time that I feel the saddest that you left.
This is me trying to forget.


I know that it was you that I spoke to. We did eventually have our chance to say good bye, didn't we? I was assured that you were no longer in pain. That small bit of reassurance has helped. The thought of you still makes me smile. The thought of living without you in my life still makes me cry.
This is me missing you.


Everyday I make a conscientious effort to show those that I love how much they mean to me.  When I say, "be safe", I mean it. When I say, "I'll see you later", I say it hoping that it is true. And when I say, "I love you", I don't say it out of habit or to be polite. I say it because I want to remind them that they make my life worthwhile.
This is you, changing me for the better.


Until we meet again, this is me and my attempt at moving on.