4 years ago the night before, the 20th I was out for my 19th birthday and I remember just breaking down in the middle of the street knowing I was out in your final moments.
I woke up the next morning, I woke to the status all of us had been dreading; you were no longer among us.
I miss you so incredibly, so many days I look up at the clouds and see them in the shapes of dragons – our thing – and so many other days I say something I find myself imagining you just shaking your head at me.
You were nothing short of the perfect human, everyone loved you – they were drawn to you and the goodness inside you. Not once have I heard of someone not loving you and still I wake up on the 21st of December every year to see the inflow of peoples love and their grief for you, just as it is for me.
There’s something about losing someone close to us that never seems to dull or leave our mind. Some desire within moments to share it with them.
I have them for both Chris and my mother and even after 4 years since Chris I still have them as often, I know it becomes easier and that is what helps me. I know that no matter what he has a part of my heart and I will never forget him.
The thing you forget after 4 years tho, is the pain for the first one.
Friday is the first birthday I’ll have without a call from my mother, this Christmas is the same.
Mum was never consistent with Christmas, it depended on the religion she followed that year..
But birthdays – yes and this will be the first 0ne without her contacting me, its almost the finality of it setting in.
Its a weird thing, its like you can prepare yourself for that let down because you know that it cant happen, that there will be no call but yet you’ve spent 23 years getting that call.
Its like breaking a habbit, you know you should but the habit is so strong youre doing it without realising and thats how I feel regarding her call.
This is the first of many I suppose, how many moments had I already future planned with her in my head that closer to those moment I’ll realise they won’t happen.
I suppose all grief is differentfor everyone you lose, a friend is different to a parent.
I don’t know many people that have lost a parent and sometimes I feel like im the only one to feel the way I do, but I know when I talk to those around me – nothing of what I feel is wrong.
For someone to tell me how I act or react to the loss isn’t like me, I want no more than to shut them out as those people saying that to me have no idea.
To have an ache so horribly big and deep is a thing words do not quite cover – ive had an entire 23 years of hurt and the lost feeling as even now I will never be what is expected of me, and that hollow lost feeling does not leave, but its satisfying to know that I no longer need to live my life in others expectations and that that ache does not have to define you!
Am I unfair to feel this way? Are the habbits I have formed really that bad or am I for once out enjoying myself and filling the void for the hole?
People tell me im drinking a lot and that’s not like me, that I am following my mother’s foot steps but not once have I thought to drink to feel better.
Any time I have had negative thoughts and thought I could go for a drink I have NOT had one ! I am not my mother – nor will I become her, I have noticed that within the last week that I will always have one thing if nothing else that will stop me from being her and that is, that I will always have faith in others.
I know that there are people that love me and care no matter what – and that was something she could never grasp. How many suicide related calls I talked her out of or how many hours I spent telling her I would never leave.
That defience of that is what stops you from living.
Living, for me on the other hand, is something I will never stop doing – no matter what is that tears me down.
And if that isn’t enough to stop me from being her, what is?