I am two hours and two minuets into the first full month after Zach's fall. It's incredible that I'm here. It's unbelievable that I'm here so soon. It feels like all of this started only last week. And yet, I feel a million years older.
In this moment, right now, I am weary. I am tired. I look at myself in the mirror and don't recognize the woman looking back. The areas under my eyes are darker. They tell horror stories. Maybe that's just horror movies lingering in my mind.
As you may have noticed from previous posts, I am dealing with a lot of anger right now. It's directed at both Samantha and Zach. I love both of them so much, but I feel very betrayed by them right now, collectively. It may be wrong to say, but if only one death had occurred, I believe I would not feel such a strong sense of betrayal. But now that two have happened in such a short span, I can't help but feel as though I can't trust people to live long enough to share my future with me.
It's dumb, really, to feel that I can't trust people because look at all the people who have been with me from the very beginning. (Haha, I almost wrote Samantha, by reflex). My parents, for example. My siblings too have stuck around. And grandparents. I'm lucky to still have all of my grandparents.
But Samantha and Zach. Wow. Just. People I loved indescribably immensely not because we were related, not that that is any less of anything, but because I wanted to love them, because they were my soul mates. People who understood me so easily and who loved me back. People who I shared my deepest secrets with. People who experienced me in my most shameful moments, in my most depressed moments, in my happiest moments, in my angriest moments, and in my most honest moments. They have seen me fail. They have seen me succeed. They have seen me do absolutely nothing for anyone. They have seen me be selfish. They have seen me be kind. They have seen my talents. They have seen my weaknesses. They, among anyone in this wide world, knew me best because of the love we shared with one another. And I knew them as they knew me.
I saw them in shame. I saw them in love. I saw them in happiness. I saw them succeed. I saw them fail. I saw them vulnerable. I saw them stolid. I saw them condescend. I saw them praise. I saw them be them.
They saw me be me. And the beautiful thing is, they loved me anyway.
It's unfortunate that my life has taken these turns. And that theirs have, too. It instills a lot of bitterness within me and makes it difficult for me feel as though I am unable to fully commit myself to anyone like that again.
With this bitterness, I also feel strangely calm. Strangely logical. Strangely cold. And yet, also, intensely emotional and sentimental. I am, at this point in my life, as contradicting as day and night. I believe the word for me now is ambivalence.
So far, my steps in grief have been feeling tantalized to feeling aggrieved to feeling ambivalent. I love how the GRE has prepared me with the words to describe these times. I often noted how most of the words were things like dirge, wistfulness, languid, listless, doleful, lugubrious, wretched, forlorn, morose, disconsolate, contrite, bemoan, rue, fulminate, tribulation, and the worst one to be applicable yet bereaved. I often was grateful that as I studied them, I could not relate to them. I never realized how quickly they would become relevant for me, again. And as I continued to study after Zach's fall and in addition to Samantha's, I found learning words like precarious, precipitate, purchase, impetuous, imprudent, gamble, etc, brought them to mind.....
Anyhow. Let's switch from night to day, though this may be very tedious for me given my current state. Positives: The blue, cloudless sky today. The comfortable refuge found in both the shade and sun today. The refreshing wind. The bright plumage of cardinals. The dulcet tones of mocking birds and sparrows. The gleaming display my comfort stones put on in full sunlight. The patience shown by my friends and family as they listen to me ramble away. The fact that my brother consumed a tiny octopus today. That one makes me smile just thinking about it. The hug I received from an old friend I had not seen since high school that lifted me off the ground. The brief, once ina life time moments in which I was wearing a sculpted astronaut helmet and he was simultaneously wearing a sculpted wolf headdress. The art boxes he gifted to me and the random contents they held. The most mystifying text messaging tactic I've seen in ages that engenders cleverness. My new habit of collecting notes about phrases I hear or images I see throughout the day to help me make witty comments, jokes, and comics later. A fortune cookie fortune that predicts a very pleasant surprise for me in the near future. The collection of seeds from the most alluring little flowers planted on my parents front porch. The fact that I knew how to collect those seeds. The reminiscence of the scents that are given off by jasmine, gardenia, and wisteria. The time I got to spend with all my immediate family members this weekend. Watching the sweetest kitty attempt to catch a bug. The musical musings of Architecture in Helsinki and the fun I have just yelling nonsense right along with them. And kind words from kind people, my people.
And now that I have successfully conjured a somewhat tired, but sincere nonetheless, smile on my face, I will sign off. Good night, confusing world. Good night, day. Good night, night. Good night lost friends and good night found ones. And sweet, sweet, sweet dreams.
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