7 months

Today marks 7 months since Chantz took his own life.
Every 6th I fall apart even more so than I do every day.
It's like it's happening all over again
That night, the garage, the hospital.
Every detail is forever ingrained in my memory.
It brings back those questions I thought I put to rest.
I have been trying to be better. To heal.
To move forward.
But this day always sets me back and I haven't taken many steps forward to begin with.
I am so exceptionally tired.
He's still every where I look and now I can go a few mintues at a time without thinking about him. But then it comes back and I'm surprised that I could even think about something else in the first place.
I'm constantly scared of going backwards.
I'm constantly scared that someone else will disappear.
I'm in constant fear that I will never come back. I dont know who I've become, and if I'm getting better.
I'm told that I'm strong by so many. But that's far from the truth.
I am forever wrecked.
What does being strong have to do with any of it anyway?
Whether I stay in bed all day, do something productive, drink myself to sleep or anything else..he's still gone. That never changes.

It never will.

In a dream I meet
my dead friend. He has,
I know, gone long and far,
and yet he is the same,
for the dead are changeless.
They grow no older.
It is I that have changed,
grown strange to what I was.
Yet I, the changed one,
ask: "How you been?"
He grins and looks at me.
"I been eating peaches
off some mighty fine trees."
-Wendell Berry