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.

California

    There's something very liberating about being in a place where no one knows your story. It's how I felt when I went to New Orleans back in March, but this time, it's more powerful. On a whim, I decided to road trip to California with a close of friend of mine to get away from Texas for a few days. This is the third thing I've followed through with in the past year. And only the second that I've done for myself.

The first was the benefit concert

    The second was actually finishing and doing well in a school term this summer since all of this, only leaving me with two more semesters till I graduate. School has been meaningless for so long, and it still seems that way sometimes but...well, I'm still working on how to finish that sentence.

    And this trip is my third...my way of reminding myself that I need to move forward and be okay with doing things without Chantz, and also to get away from Texas and the weight the memories of last year seem to hold. It's been tough, I catch myself thinking that he should be here, or wondering where I would be instead if he were still alive. I try not to look back, but that's the only place where I still see him. So far, this trip has been what I needed. It's been a mess with so many roadblocks along the way, but it's been a wonderful experience.I find myself just seeing what's going to happen next and  being open to it. I don't need to be in control, I just need to live and enjoy doing so.
    I know I've accomplished more than three things thus far..it's been a million little things in the last year, that really are huge accomplishments, but these three things are short term goals I've made for myself and followed through with. It may not sound like the biggest thing, but to me, it's huge. I'm piecing my life back together with fulfilling experiences, and that's just wonderful to me.


    Traveling is what really helps my soul the most, every time I do it, it feels lighter, as if I'm leaving parts of this load in each place I visit and bring a part of that place with me in return.

xxx

Freedom.
I've been trapped in a situation I had no control over. Yes.
But I've also been liberated from everything else...social norms, expecations as to how I should live my life. From the fear of showing love to those around me. From what we are told is meaningful in this world.
Freedom is choosing to live for the sake of living.


San Diego Beach



Why the Willow Weeps



It weeps for you late at night, when sleep does not come easily.

It weeps for the one you miss.

 It weeps for the dreams on the tips of your fingers.

 It weeps for appointments missed and it weeps for the tears in your pillow.

 It weeps for the silence and it weeps for the noise.

 It weeps for formal letters where once, language was spoken as close to your ear as possible.

 It weeps for betrayal, intended or not.

It weeps for the friends you once were.

 It weeps for the colours faded.
 It weeps for sunrise.

 It weeps for a death in the family and it weeps when a baby is born.

It weeps for the last time you touched.

 It weeps for words that can never be taken back.

It weeps so hard and so much and so often.

 So you don’t have to.

So you can carry on. It weeps for you.

When you have run out of weeping.

one year

A year ago today Chantz committed suicide.

suicide.

What an ugly word.
For a while, I coulnd't even bring myself to say it.

One moment you were there...and the second, you were just..gone.
I still have a hard time wrapping my head around it. I was the last person to see you and hear your voice, and if I had just known that that was the last time I'd ever hear it, I wouldn't have gotten off the phone. I would've told you I loved you so much, more than you knew. That you needed to be here. That I'd never recover or be happy about the fact that you didn't exist anymore. You were my Chantz...

So for whoever reads this, please don't hold back on showing those you love just how much they mean to you. Don't be afraid...fear is meaningless and a deceiver. You never want to look back and regret not having loved as much as you could've.
Looking back, that's the one thing I know I dont have to regret...I told him I loved him all the time and I showed it in the best way I could, failing miserably at times of course. But I never held back, and neither did he. But if I had known, I would've spent all these years loving him and being happy instead of focusing on the most meaningless and arbitrary things at times. I hate that I know this now. I always think that if I had been the way I  am now then he'd probably be here. Again with the 'what if's'

This enitre year I've managed  to survive by living in the past and present. Im sure I've said that a lot already. In the past, I could look back and remember what I was doing a year ago with Chantz. But starting tomorrow, if I look back, I will only see me and my grief......he's really gone.
But it doesn't mean I'm alone.

A year ago today I met with one of my best friends for coffee because he had come to Fort Worth from Austin. We talked about how I was really excited to move in with Chantz the next day. And how we were both happier than ever before. That Chantz's last day at his internship was that day and things were working out just fine. I remember that I was going to buy a dresser and getting Chantz's help to load it later that evening. I remember it was a really pretty day, not as infernally hot as today, and then it started pouring. The apocalypse kind that lasted till around ten at night. I remember stressing out over last minute things. Over money. Over my mother. I remember what I was wearing, what you looked like, the last time we kissed, not knowing it would be the last. It was just a simple kiss, like we had done it a thousand times and were used to it. It was sweet, but if I had known it was the last how I would've made it last longer. I would've looked at every little feature to make sure that the faulty camera in my mind would never forget anything about you. Even though I didn't know that...I still remember every detail. Of the night as well. From the simple and beautiful to the most horrific thing I've ever seen in my life. Things I wish I could erase from my mind will always be there. The good with the bad. It's how it goes.

On August 7th, I was in shock.
I woke up after a few hours of medicated sleep. I remember I had a dream that Chantz and I broke up, and in the dream that was the worst thing that could happen. It was such a heartbreaking dream. When I woke up I was so happy that it had been just a dream and I was back in real life, and for the life of me I couldnt remember the night before...the garage, his body, the police, the hospital..
I grabbed my phone and I had messages from various people giving me their condolences and saying they were there if I needed anything...then I remembered. It didn't feel real, it wasnt real. And how did they already know about this fictional event? How did word get out?
How could people know about something that wasn't even true?

I remember smoking about 6 packs of cigarettes that weekend. and drinking arizona tea. Stephanie brought me a ridiculous amount of homemade Mac & Cheese that I couldn't eat. I remember thinking that if I was hungry then it meant that I didn't care about the situation, so I wouldn't eat. I remember Caroline was still in California, the one person that I wanted to see the most. I remember Iris calling saying she was on her way, the one person I didn't expect that from. I remember looking at a picture of Chantz at all times as if I would forget him if I stopped looking at him for a second. I remember I looked like crap, and didn't shower. I remember an old bible study teacher showing up and wanting to read the bible, and me saying no. I remember the look of hurt surprise on his face when I told him that Chantz didn't even believe in god.
I got a lot of flowers that weekend, it was a really nice gesture, but I still don't get why people get flowers when people die..is it because they just dont know what else to do? Why dont people give flowers for no reason at all except just to brighter their day? That would be nice.
I think I will go buy myself some flowers this week, Chantz got me daisies all the time. He was the only one who got me the burnt orangey red kind and I've refused to get those or any flower for that matter since. 
I stopped doing a lot of things because then it would mean that said things weren't done last with Chantz.
You kind of stop living that way...

This past year people have asked me if I've heard about this or that on the news...about celebrity gossip, politics, new wars, etc....and no..I haven't heard about any of these things.
I don't expect people to remember every second of every day as to what happened in my life, but unfortunately when your world is turned upside down, you don't really hear about anything else that's going on in the world around you. I feel like for a while now I've been having to play catch up about the world and existence around us.

It's been a year filled with:

shock
non-stop sleep
denial
conspiracy theories
rage
panic
tears
drugs
alcohol
friends
hate
guilt
guilt
guilt guilt guilt
fear
nightmares
meds
doubts
therapy
hauntings
carelessness
rebirth
traveling
new----everything
longing
aching
sobbing
writing
music
dejection
insomnia
searching
waiting
talking
and talking some more
a new vision
loneliness
fearlessness
an abundance of love
confusion
repetition
unanswered questions
escaping
exhaustion
rejection
loss


and
acceptance.

It's been the longest and most painful year of my life.
And I share because I would like people to know who he was, what he meant to me, and hopefully to help in any way I can in preventing from this happening to someone else.
I used to hate the fact that it seemed like this was another lesson I had to learn. It's like he was reduced to that. But that's not true either...I can learn from this but it doesn't take away from the fact that he was a person, with passions, a history, life, love, demons, quirks, habits, flaws, dreams, etc. just because he's not anymore. He was flesh and blood. Not a concept to learn from.

If you can inspire, then do it.

A few months after Chantz's death a friend asked me if someone asked me what I had gotten/learned from the entire situation what I would say. I told her "nothing."
It was the truth.

Now a year later I have a different response:

I would say to love. love love love love love. That it's okay that I ache for Chantz and miss him, and that I let myself do it every time it happens. But then I send all that love his way and let it go. You can't spend your life not living just because someone's left this world.
I would say (this I came to last night) to not spend your love and life on the dead, but on the living. I still love you, and always will. But I know that I've spent the majority of this year not loving the people who I can still show love to. I would say that I'm still getting used to seeing with these new eyes, but that I see what's important in this existence and I am so very happy about that. I would say that I didn't think there was much death around me, then I experienced it myself. Now I see death everywhere. It's not that I look for it, but my eyes have been opened to something that's always been there. As morbid as that may sound, it just reminds me that even in that we're not alone. And it's even more of a reminder to LIVE as much as you can. I would say that I've made incredible progress in just the last couple of months and I am amazed and SO happy about that. I would say that happy days are more than possible. And that moving forward is not a betrayal or a dishonor to him. To expect the unexpected and don't be surprised when you find yourself bawling your eyes out in a public setting because you saw something that reminded you of that person. Meaning, that it never goes away. You just learn how to walk with it. I would  say there is not a wrong way to grieve and to own it and go through every process. Don't let others define it for you, because they are more than likely trying to make themselves feel comfortable about the situation instead of trying to help. To not expect to be "over it" or to answer the questions that don't make sense...but that VERY slowly but surely, you accept that those questions wont ever be answered. That eventually you do stop crying every day, even if it's eight months down the road. I would say that the world is still a wonderful place, and that there are many who are willing to carry you and drag you so you don't stay behind. Those people are more than worth investing in.


Just one year. It feels like a lifetime...I'm not who I used to be. The world has changed and it keeps changing every minute. Yet, it's been only a year.
I miss you, and I still Wish You Were Here
One of our favorite songs...I remember the last time you played it for me last July. I remember my host sister playing it when I was in Spain and how much it made me miss you. I remember hearing it on my way to the airport this past December and thinking it was your way of talking to me.
I never thought those words would become an anthem to my soul. That I would sincerely know the depth those four words can mean.
I love you sweet Chantz.

Today,
I am up and downm and missing you so much..but unlike last year, I am in reality. Not in shock.I am reminded that people are beautiful. So many have let me know that they're keeping me in their thoughts and they've been extremely kind to me. My loving grandparents took me and Iris out to lunch and it was really nice to be around people I love and to have that support system. Right now I am in a place that makes my soul feel happy...ie, book shop. I originally planned to stay in bed all day, but I realize that I should always get back up, and do something that would make you happy, and spend this day on loving and remembering you, having some time to myself and end it by sharing it with people I love. Can you see? After so long, I'm trying.
For you. For me. For life.

Someone told me "You have made it through the first year and that is something to be proud of. I could only imagine that Chantz is proud of you."
I hope so.

love
you.