Visitors offering their condolences, thinking to comfort me, said "Life goes on." What nonsense I thought, of course it doesn't. It's death that goes on. He's dead now, and will be dead tomorrow and next year and forever. There's no end to that. But perhaps there will be an end to the sorrow of it.

Heavy

Robert Frost was right...it goes on.
happiness.
excitement.
giddiness.
so much laughter, and friendship..and life.
It's different this time, it's all so much...more. As if my capacity for growth and love and an appreciation for life has only increased because of all of this.
But at what cost??
Couldn't there have been a different way to get here?
What else could I have done?
Will I always ask myself these things?

This past weekend was the best of my year thus far. Beautiful moments.
Saw my favorite band for the first time.
All those times I raved about getting to see Iron & Wine and how you said you would come along and join me for that special moment. You weren't there....yet, the moment was still perfect.
It's a truly bittersweet change.

But still, my heart gets torn at the smallest reminders of you. A phrase you used to say, a poem, seeing your name written on a piece of paper I had forgotten about, an identical pair of old shorts that you once got bleach on and continued to wear...they now sit neatly folded in a box with things I have left of you....It makes me catch  my breath. I still remember you so clearly.
You see, I've been working on mending that hole every day, but sometimes the strings are pulled out of my skin when I least expect them to.

I still feel heavy.

"We will never forget" is a phrase I kept hearing or seeing over and over again yesterday. But I don't think that's necessarily true...people have forgotten, except on the anniversary. It's a phrase that's said by those who really don't understand the gravity of having lost loved ones on that day. An attempt to be patriotic...but it runs so much deeper than that. Individuals were lost. And those that lost them don't need a date to remind them of that day, and how their lives were forever changed through no action of their own. I'm pretty sure it's something they live with more than just once a year.

It made me realize that you will be forgotten as well. Thousands of people died that day, and the world has already forgotten. How can you stand a chance?

Our memories are the only thing we can hold on to..and even they are faulty...the memories eventually get so buried deep inside our mind that we forget things we swore we'd never forget. There's no way to even bring them back to the surface because we're not aware that it even happened.  

Will I forget your laughter?

transforming

The passage of time seems to take me further away from you.
I was at a standstill for so long; I was by your side even if I couldn't see or feel you, but I did my best in staying behind with you.

Now I find myself having to stop and think...and remember you...remember us.
The rituals of talking to you daily hoping you were somewhere out in the world listening, of asking you to come back or just give me a sign,  of needing to see all the places we went to or looking through all the pictures and letters....I'm doing those less. Some call it progress...while I am confused as to what's going on. Are other things becoming more significant? Or is it just that other things are becoming important as well? Why do I feel that I have to choose between one or the other? No one's asked me to, except for me it seems.
What's happening? It's like we're heading in different directions...you, somewhere unknown to me. Somewhere that could be what we've learned about since childhood in church, or a place that's inconceivable to the human mind...or perhaps in mere nothingness which my cynical and nihilistic mind believes in the most. The only part of you that could still exist could be what's in all of us...everything you taught and showed us. Or maybe I'm just tucking you in somewhere in the depths of my mind, only to be brought back out once in a while when I am alone and okay with ripping myself apart for the night.
I am moving forward...willingly and unwillingly. There was such a long period of time when I would bask in every excruciating moment of losing you. It was the only way that you could stay here and be real. It made me never want to move forward...now I give myself time to feel those same feelings when they come then I send all my love and heartache to you and move forward in my journey. At one point I was afraid of being where I am right now, refusing to let go and gripping onto whatever I could hang on to as hardest as I could. Now, it's becoming easier to loosen that hold.

I find myself drastically changing; my sole identity has been this...you...for so long. Now it's just becoming a part of me. But I'm still not sure who that is anymore...it's not Veronica from over a year ago...or the Veronica from this past year. So who is it.....? I feel bare. The world couldn't touch me, this was the only thing that could phase me in any way. Now...things are starting to get to me again. I get annoyed at the small things. Or get stressed out over something as arbitrary as a school paper, or money. I find myself being excited and expectant....that hasn't been me for a year. I didn't expect anything of the world, or those in it...and I made it very clear that the world was not to expect anything from me.

As it becomes less a part of my identity, it's being shaped and transformed into something else. Constantly changing, until one day it'll become what it will be for the rest of my life. I'm still not sure what that is though..some days, it is my driving force to live and love as much as I can. It is the filter that I see the world through. It is my reason to expect nothing from the world...but sometimes, expecting everything it has to offer. It is a scalding reminder to not get too close, or try to save anyone ever again. To not care, because obviously I can't keep tragedies from happening or save the world in any way. It is what makes me lie awake at night wondering how I can make this world a better place even if it wont matter a hundred years from now. Or how I can help in not letting this happen to those around me. It is my reminder that nothing is true and that all is irrelevant. It is the light that shines on the things that are true and intrinsically valuable. While other times it still is a nightmare I keep telling myself I have to wake up from.


This past year has been spent on grieving, and while I may not be fully finished with that part of it, I am also coming to a place where I am spending the following weeks, months, year, or more on healing. I've healed some this year, but I've mostly grieved. It's necessary...one can't move onto the next phase of life without mourning what or who was lost. It's a process I've been afraid of...a belief that healing means forgetting, a trick of the mind. And although I still fall into that trap more than I'd like to admit, I am willingly going to spend my year doing things that will heal my soul. I am going to live, unlike I did last year. I don't regret the journey I've gone through but I know it's time to be a part of the living once more and stop holding back for fear that you will think I am okay with living without you or that I don't love you.
The thing is, I have to be okay with living without you, you didn't give me a choice.