Sunday, January 4, 2015

Yesterday you said tomorrow.

I haven't had the heart to write on here since I wrote about Brittany.  It's like I wanted that post to retain its sanctity, for my blog to be a cairn for my amazing friend.  All I have left of her is pictures and a necklace which is enough because in a way I feel like there's only so much of her memory that I should have.  What about her husband and her family?  What about her best friends back home?  Surely they deserve to hurt more and grieve more and love more than I do.  So I felt invested in my writing and the space that I made for her here, but she would want me to make space for things other than the aching in my chest and the dark space where she no longer shines.
I don't have the heart to write anything about her memory, especially because most days I forget that she now only exists in memories and maybe in some other place far away.  A thought will drift to the forefront of my mind reminding me that I need to send her a message on facebook, or I'll hear a song and want to let her know that we heard it first, together, and now everybody else is hearing it too.  I'll admit that I sometimes talk quietly to the dashboard or the empty living room, hoping that she can hear me and I haven't lost her forever.  I want her to know that she's missed, that I hope she's okay and not lonely or in pain, and that I wish we could go back to the family we created together in small German towns.

As far as I know, she didn't believe in god or heaven and hell.  But I can see her existing on some other plane, looking on and approving of the times I stand up for myself and take care of myself and miss her.  Because she would want to be missed.  She would smile and laugh and demand that I do something awesome for her, and then, with her blunt honesty, she would declare that I need to get my shit together, get out of my bubble already, finish my degree, go to a damn concert, read a good book, decorate the house, work out and eat some guacamole.

Though clichéd (and I don't care), the best way for me to love and grieve for Brit is by making choices every day to purposefully live the life that I want.  By letting myself open up, spread out and stand firm, by surrounding myself with the things and people that will improve my life and space within this world, by being inspired and creative and adventurous.  She continues to teach me about fearlessness and confidence.  She reminds me constantly that I should make the life I want and not give a shit about what other people think or the barriers that stand in my way.

Brittany was smart and kind and beautiful and strong as hell and that's only touching the surface.  She was so much good, a strange, unique kind of good that I can't even touch on explaining well enough.  I hope someday I'll be almost that good, and people will ask what made me that way and I'll be able to tell them about my brave, strong friend who shined.


This piece of writing doesn't feel finished, and I will write about Brit some more, but this initial little bit has to get out so that the mess tumbling around in my mind can be straightened out a bit.  I can imagine her urging me to move on and start working on some good shit for this upcoming year.

So yes Brit, I'll get off my ass and stop moping around because I miss you and you're not here anymore.  I hope you'll be proud.

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