In the thick of life

    Remember when we were kids and we thought that life would be so cool when we grew up? What were we thinking? I mean legitimately. We couldn't wait to do all the adult things and make the rules for ourselves. Now I'm pretty sure I'd give anything to go back to those days, provided I could return with the knowledge I have now.

   I have been so tired and down lately. It's important for each of us to feel successful and needed in at least one area of our lives. Agreed? It's good to feel needed. It's good to feel like someone needs you, and that you're doing a job no one else could do in the way you're doing it. I finally figured out in the past week why I've been so down. It's because I don't feel successful or needed in any area of my life.

     Work- I am in year two of music teaching. Do I enjoy it? Most days. Do I think I do a fantastic job? Meh. I think I do a good job. I think I work very hard. I think the kids mostly like me, but there's that nagging voice that says you weren't a music ed major and you're just parading. But truly, I am starting to get over that. I do feel like kids enjoy my class and learn something from it.

    Hobbies- Usually I'd say I feel very successful with the group I sing in, but we are working with a guest conductor this fall, whose perfectionism makes me look like a slacker. I am perfectionistic to a fault but this guy truly makes me look like someone with 5 days left in their entire career. It's exhausting working for him, which has left me wondering if I make people in my life feel this way. Yikes.

   Personal- Well that's just a joke. After my divorce eight + years ago, I still believed I would find someone, get remarried, and start a family. And here I am pushing 37. No, it's not the end of the world. Yes, there's hope. Yes, in many ways, being single is not a bad thing. But the reality is that it's very hard to "do life" on your own day in and day out. God didn't design us to live alone. I think the fact that over half of us based on the latest US Census live alone is a huge part of the cause of the upswing in depression in our country. We just weren't created to do life alone.

   I found out that Jeff 2 is dating someone. I had a hunch, but it's way worse than I could have imagined. He's dating a woman with several children who doesn't work, has been separated from her drug dealer husband a little over a month, and has already met Landen. UGH. Talk about a lack of wisdom. Dude, what are you doing? He posted a picture of her today with some gross caption on social media. I know what he's doing. He did the same to me. He's made an idol out of her, which is laughable at best. I mean how does he seriously think this will work? It's none of my business, I keep reminding myself. He told me almost 7 months ago now that he wanted nothing to do with me. So why does this hurt so much? Why does it bother me so?



   

What... what, what?!

  Ohmigosh you guys. I am ridiculous. I don't even know what to say. Shortly after Brandon and I broke up, Jeff and I reconnected. I had been feeling like I missed him (and missed out on him) back in December, and so I wrote Jeff a letter. I said that he was a man of God, and there were so many things I hadn't appreciated. All true. He loved it, and contacted me. I kept my distance and left it up to him. We started seeing each other again. It was casual. We never had a talk about what we were, but there was definite flirting, he was bringing me around his family again, and things were different.

  Last week, there was even a blizzard. Legitimate, you guys. We missed several rehearsals and the musical still rocked! :) Alas, I digress. Anyway, he shoveled my driveway a couple times. I thought things were fine. I was dead wrong.

  As of last weekend, he was at the NCAA tournament. I totally get it. You're at something that's akin to me being in NYC to see Hamilton, plus you have two days off; so I'm thinking this is why I'm not hearing much. It gets to be Saturday. Tournament is over. Still nothing. Sunday- nothing. Monday- nothing. So I text him Monday and ask if he knows why I haven't been in touch. To which he says: "I figured you have been busy with the play. Getting ready for that." And I said nothing because: a. you're dumb. b. Anything I say will come out mean at this point. 13 hours later- Was that not right? To which I say: No. I've been keeping my distance as I've been taking my lead from you. About an hour later- fair enough. I deserve that. Yeah, yeah you do, dude. And I say- "I genuinely don't think you're into this." 7 hours later- "Do you want the answer to this via text?" And I said No, I already know the answer in my heart. The answer is you're not, and you haven't known how to tell me. Ummm, can we talk for a minute about how I had to lead my own damn breakup? I mean, can we? What kind of man isn't courageous enough to say what he's really feeling? What kind of man allows the woman he loves to lead the breakup? And then I get this bullshit- This was not something that was easy. I hope you know that.

  I CALL BULLSHIT. You legitimately thought I was the woman for you. You called your sister in law and took her to the gym at 5 am to talk with her about it. So how... in the span of days between you showing up to shovel my driveway, and a few days ago- do you decide that I am not the woman for you? I mean really? Is there someone else? What isn't being said? You're scared?

  I'm just saying- how many of my alpha ladies out there have heard this one- he's not man enough for you... you're intimidating to him... etc, etc. At what point do we call bullshit? Because I'm there. What is it?

  Here I am again. I always come back to my writing when things start to go haywire in my life. Maybe I should just keep up with it and there would be less of that? We all know that's not how life works.

  In September, I reconnected with a great guy I'd gone to college with. It moved quickly. We wanted a lot of the same things and there was that great sense of familiarity due to the shared past we had, as well as the fact that we're both music teachers, avid readers, lovers of jazz, etc. It was going along fantastically.

   There were a few red flags for me along the way. The night he was out super late and texting me (and voicemailing) at 3:30 am talking about "putting the nail in the coffin" with his ex is the big one I think of. He also had a major health scare a couple months back with chest pain, etc. that turned out to be "heartburn." He was hospitalized for a day and I really thought that would scare him into submission as far as eating healthy, working out, and keeping a sleep schedule. But I was wrong. And somehow those things became major irritations for me. He was constantly complaining about being exhausted and not feeling well, and somewhere along the way, I began to voice my concerns. "Have you thought about a sleep schedule?" "Do you know anything about sleep hygiene?" "Maybe you could try cutting out the soda and pizza for a bit and giving your body a rest." I know how all of this sounds. Is it my place? Probably not. But when you're intimately involved with someone, you want what's best for them. I also, selfishly, started to get very nervous about how his lifestyle would affect me. I work very hard at eating well, sleeping, and working out consistently. I am a tad crazy about it, admittedly, because my father had a major heart attack at the young age of 42, so taking care of one's health is super important to me.

   Did I mention he lives 5ish hours away? Oh, yeah. So, he lives 5ish hours away, so we were seeing each other about once a month. September, October, November, and then came December- NYE in NYC. Or that's what it was supposed to be. Only I came down with stomach flu on NYE. And all I wanted was two things- 1. to be home and 2. to be not sharing a bathroom. Neither of which I could have. So I asked as nicely as I could, if he would consider going into the city and enjoying the show he'd bought tickets for. To which he said, No, I want to be here for you. Which was so incredibly kind, and yet, so incredibly infuriating to me. I don't want to be dying in the bathroom with the guy one wall over who I have only been dating for four months.

   Flash forward to a week post NYE. He breaks it off. Saying that he'd been feeling for a few weeks that things were going south and that NYE was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was not given a chance. He just broke it off.

  Now, I have logically thought about ALL of this over and over again. I was irritated with him. Our lifestyles weren't in sync. We live 5 hours apart. I know all of this, and yet, I keep coming back to the same thing. Long story short: I had my heart torn out and stomped on repeatedly by my ex husband, as well as one other long term boyfriend. And they have something in common. In both of those relationships, they both walked off like I meant nothing. And now this guy does the same.damn.thing. Guys, hear me out. I am not saying that this is not cray cray behavior. I wish I was unblemished and had no issues too. But the reality is, I've lived some shit, ok? And so have you. And I'm not judging you. So what I'm saying is, I ALWAYS subconsciously push guys away when I think it has real potential because it's a test. The message I've heard now, several times in my adult life, is that I am not enough. I am not enough for you to fight for. You just walk. Things get tough, and I hold you accountable, and you WALK. AND NOTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD HURTS LIKE THAT. TO know that you have laid your soul bare for someone, they've looked over it and said "MEH". There is NO hurt in the world like that. It feels like daggers. No matter if the relationship would've survived or was meant to work out or not. That shit effing hurts. Because the underlying message is "you're not enough for me to want to fight for this."

  I've also been living with the idea of what an awful person I must be. He walked away, having said that I made him feel unloved, unappreciated, and stupid, and wrong all the time. OH. MY. God. I have nothing else but that. That was NEVER the intent. And I am sick to my stomach thinking that I caused this heart. Literally. Sick.

  Really though, someone help me understand. How does one say that someone is the best thing that's happened to them in so long, and ten days before a breakup say that they couldn't stop gushing about you at dinner, and then ten days later, you're their ex? How does that even work? Because I literally can't wrap my brain around that. And my heart won't accept it.

A good day

Today was not a good day... It was a fantastic day. We're at Seneca Lake this week, and my girl Kristin (FB) came down and spent the day with us. We were out floating on the raft with drinks a lot, sunbathing, chatting with family, and went to Fox Run for a bit. 

FB and I always pick right up where we left off. There's no expectation or judgement. There's just an embrace, a genuine "I'm so glad to see you!" And off we go. Like we never were apart. The best part is I love who I am when I am with her. We have both done so much work in the last few years to become who we want to be. She reminds me that I am capable of being the person I want to be, regardless of the distractions and circumstances around me. 

I spent a lot of time in prayer on the dock tonight and just feel good about where I plan on going- being more in balance and less right wing and strict because then I tend to get upset and off kilter. I am not sure Jeff is the guy for me but that's ok with me. It's trying to get Jeff to understand and accept this that seems to be a real challenge. 

Now, how to be less irritated by my mom? I seem to be constantly on edge with her lately. Hmmm.... 

Adulting

     Adulting is highly overrated and more difficult than I ever anticipated, particularly when it comes to relationships. I met a guy last summer. He's actually related to one of my best friends, which makes things more complicated because she became invested in it. He's truly one of the most genuinely kind and unaffected guys I've ever met. He's the youngest of three, and grew up on a farm in a small town. Why all the background? Because I think it's important when you consider what I'm about to say. We don't make sense.

    I come from a diverse background. My parents split when I was young, but remained amicable and raised me to the best of their abilities. I am fiercely independent because I am an only and was raised by two smart, independent parents who taught me to be the same. In contrast, he's the youngest of a close knit farm family. I'm not knocking that, but the reality is it's an entirely different mindset. He also learned to depend on two older brothers, but also questioned himself because of it. I have always been unforgivingly confident. It's a tough mix.

   I firmly believe that you must have respect for your partner. It's on a different level than other relationships. The relationships I've had that have worked for me have been with men that I've had a deep respect for because they exceed me in some way- talentwise, intellect, etc. I don't perceive that as the case here. Does that sound horrible? Maybe it does, and maybe I am a bad person for it, but in the areas that I value most- intellect, culture, world view, sophistication, musical gifts, goal mindedness.... he doesn't excel in any of those. Where does he excel? Let me highlight some things he is great at. He's incredibly good at being responsible. If he says he'll do it, he does it. He puts other's needs before his own. And spiritually, he's rock solid. But I'm not sure he's ever really sought, which goes hand in hand with intellect and intelligence, in my mind. Arguably, these things I just mentioned are way more important than intellect and sophistication. But I will say this...When I sit down to dinner with a man, I don't want to constantly drive the conversation. I run a classroom all day. Sometimes it would be nice to kick back a bit. With him, I'm always leading. Whether it's plans, conversation, dinner, etc., I am leading. It would be nice to feel like I had an equal. Is it unreasonable and selfish to hope for this? Some people make me feel like it is. I don't feel like I respect him in the way I need to because I'm constantly explaining. i.e. yesterday- he texts " have a great day and have fun with the kiddos" and I texted back "have a great day!.... on the phone?" and he goes what? I don't get it. I'm like I work with kids, you're on the phone. Oy vey. Nevermind. Joke done. Game, Set, Match. It's work when I have to explain the joke to you.

   I constantly feel like I'm trying to fit my foot in a shoe that doesn't fit or trying to make him into something he's not. Like last Friday, my Grandma had just gotten out of rehab on Thursday and I said let's take gram out to dinner and celebrate. So I rushed home from the gym, touched up my makeup, and put on some cute clothes. My heart dropped when he picked me up. He had on jeans- just casual jeans like I'd wear shopping, and a waffle/thermal knit shirt like I'd wear over my clothes leaving the gym to keep me warm. That's what he wore out to dinner to celebrate Grandma leaving rehab. Should it matter? Probably not. But come on man. I was just totally thrown. No. This is not what we wear out to dinner. Ever. When we're dating, and we want to impress a lady, we wear a darker wash jean and a button down shirt. And I shouldn't have to explain that or ask for it. It should happen simply because you desire the approval of your lady.

  I feel horrible because I am fully aware that this is a man who would marry me, have children with me, give me what I want in terms of family life. I would be part of a family I love dearly. But I have to love HIM first. And I don't. It's not fair to him. I can't marry him on account of his family. He wouldn't want that and I know it's not right. I also know there's a good chance I stand to lose friendships over this and that is very hard too. So all of this is a lot to swallow.

  Am I convinced I am doing the right thing? Yes. I am. As hard as it is, I have to drown out the voices of the naysayers. This is not about grief over my father. I felt this long before my father's death. This is not about all the other things happening in my life. It is about me knowing somewhere deep inside that no matter how hard it is to accept he is not for me. And it is hard to walk away because he's ready to go and is a Christian man, and would treat me well. But would we ultimately be right for each other? No. The question I asked myself was "would I marry this man if he wasn't part of this family? Do I love HIM? Or do I love what he's part of?" And the answers were no, no, and what he's part of. 

And one more thing....

      Not a day goes by that I don't think about the few weeks before you passed that you texted late and said come over. "Why?" I joked. "So we can drink beer and watch HGTV?"Nope. Your answer was not at all what I expected. "I want to sleep next to you and wake up and snuggle and then make french toast." And I said no. What?! Yeah, I said no so that I wouldn't miss a Saturday morning WOD. Yikes. Pretty sure I'll regret that the rest of my days.

In a funk

        I am not sure what my deal is today, but I am in it. I am tired, overwhelmed, sad, and hopeless. I don't even like typing that.

        The day was really very normal- a typical school day, the gym, and then home. Well, a run to the wine and liquor outlet may have been in there as well. I bought half a case. Ooops.

        So let's sum up the past few months.... I decide Jeff 1 (yes, Jeff 1....keep reading) isn't right because he doesn't make a lot of time for me and we're not on the same page faithwise. I tell him my thoughts, he says let's talk when I get back from vacay, but didn't mean it.

        Meanwhile, Jeff 2 enters the scene. He's great. A gentleman, a man of faith, a family guy, sweet, sensitive, romantic. Where's the catch? I am just not feeling it. Why does this always happen? I like the ones who don't make time for me. The great ones don't interest me. Eff word. Because seriously, he's so great. And the package deal he is part of is amazing. Why can't I? Why don't I feel it?

         Some have suggested it's because of what happened with Nick just over a year ago and that I have to give it time. I just don't know what to do or feel anymore. This is where friends have said- you don't need to do anything except keep living. And when the timing is right, someone will walk into your life way better than anyone you could've imagined. I guess I have trouble believing that because my mom always wanted that and it didn't happen for her. The longer you're single the more independent you become, and the more picky. It's not looking good.

       

Realities of Adulthood

  Maybe it's just me, and maybe people don't actually think this way....?

  Jeff just left and maybe I am upset. Maybe it's the fact that it is 90 effing degrees outside. Maybe it's the fact that my mom is depressed, my grandma is 83 and can't care for herself, and my father has an unfair disease that he got as a result of a bad blood transfusion, and a drug company that cares about profits not people.

  Here's a summary of the day. Wake up, have some breakfast, Jeff and I head to the marina. Get boat and head out. Best part of the day. I freaking love boats and lakes. Head back to marina, wait around for folks. Dad and Mom show up. Boat people are awesome and help us get a good spot so Dad can get on the boat. We get the boat out, relax, fish, swim, and tube. Can't complain about any of that.

  Get dad back to the marina and he has to use the restroom. The poor man had soiled himself due to his numerous health problems and couldn't get off the toilet because of his condition. I had to go buy new drawers for him. He was too weak to shower. A walk that would take any of us 10 seconds takes 10 minutes for him. I can't imagine how exhausted he is all the time. A shower is tiring. It's no way to live, and it just bears down on me. I can't help him. His days are numbered. And the way the whole thing happened is just so damn unfair I can hardly stand it. That part of it reminds me of Nick's death. We get Dad off and into the car and are settling back into things when Grandma emerges from her room totally disoriented, stumbling around with signs of heat stroke. I help her out amidst cries from my mom that it's not heat stroke and she's normally disoriented. Then I ask if we can open the cabin which seems to trap heat and mom throws a fit. I've kind of had it with her. Half the time she mopes, half the time she bitches at me or criticizes. And then the other times, she's overly nice. I don't know what to do with her. Then Jeff had to leave and I almost cried wondering to myself what he must've been thinking about my crazy family and all of this.

  I know it could be worse, and I don't want to sound like a whiner. But it really just hit me today. The reality of parents aging. The reality of being the adult who cares for them. It's exhausting-emotionally and physically. I was dad's physical anchor today, mom's emotional punching bag, Grandma's nurse, and Jeff's girlfriend. Damn. I love them all, but I am wiped.

Journal Prompt 2

"Something you feel strongly about"

WOW! There are so many ways I could go with this! But today, I will go with this...

BE WHO YOU ARE AND DON'T APOLOGIZE TO ANYONE FOR IT!!!

    One of the little girls in my class came in this week in sparkly silver wedge sandals. They certainly weren't practical, but she felt beautiful in them and they made her feel spectacular. She was working it and owning it in those things! A little while later, she approached me, sad and sheepish, telling me that a boy in my class had told her he didn't like her shoes. I looked at her, without a second thought, and said: "Does it matter what he thinks? Who cares if he likes your shoes or not? If they make you happy, who cares what he thinks?"

     Now admittedly, I could've been more tactful. She didn't necessarily completely understand my point, but she didn't worry about it anymore. So this is my passion today... Own who you are. If sparkly, silver shoes make you feel good, wear them and own it. It's easy for me to say. I've always been unforgivingly bold. Take me baby, or leave me. No skin off my back.


     On another note, it's been 10 months today since you left us. I spent some time at your place. I am going to get a reading soon and I am worried that expectation-reality = frustration. I'm just hoping against hope that you'll be there, but at the same time, trying not to think about it because if you aren't there, I know it may send me into a tailspin.

    I love you, my friend.

Moving On

    I hate those words, but I feel like it's what is necessary. Tonight I went on a second date with a guy who is very genuine, sweet, and has real potential. We went to a release party at one of the local wineries, no more than .5 mile from your place. And I felt you there. Why? Were you there? Was I hoping you were there?

   I thought about the numerous conversations we had about this winery and the fact that some people thought they were terrible neighbors. Motorcycles kept going by and I thought about how many times you must've traveled the same route on your bike. I guess it would be hundreds, and yet, all it took was one split second on one day for someone to end your life.

    I thought about the ripple effect one life has. Your life was ended by someone and that ended so many of my dreams. And I am one small part of that picture. Then we've got your family and friends. And you touched so many lives, Nick.

   It's been a year since we reconnected. I remember our third date so vividly. "Hey. You want to do something later? I need to be near water!" I was in. I grew up on the Finger Lakes, so water is my krytoponite. We went out to the river in NT and walked and held hands. We talked about moms and dads, siblings, dogs, music, dreams. I remember the feeling in my heart when you grabbed my hand. It was electric. I just miss you so much.

   It comes and goes in waves now. I used to wake up EVERY day and think of you immediately. Now I don't. And that is sad, but also easier. I feel a lot of guilt lately. I feel guilty that I don't think of you as often and that I've started to move on. And I wonder, when I'm on dates, whether there will EVER be a moment that I look at him and accept him as he is and not wish, at some level, that he was you.

   "It's been a long day without you, my friend, and I'll tell you all about it when I see you again."

New Challenge

I found this journaling challenge on Pinterest. Journal Challenge

So here goes!

Five ways to win my heart:

1. Love my pups. Even if you don't. Make them a priority because they're one of mine. Love of animals =hot.

2. Work hard. At whatever you do. Give it your all at work, at home, and in the gym. Whatever you do, do it with all your heart, or don't do it!

3. Be real. Don't give me half of you. Let me see it all. Good days, bad days, and everything in between.

4. Don't quit. Quitters scare me. When the going gets tough, as it inevitably will, pull yourself up by the bootstraps, give me a big hug, and remind me that we're in this together. Emotional strength is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

5. Love my family and friends. Yes, they have annoying quirks. So do you, and I love you anyway. Invest in their lives. Ask about their kids and their pets. Love those around me and I'll love you even more.


I think I'm gonna like this challenge.

8 months closer to seeing you again

Today I went to see "The Longest Ride", and it really spoke to my heart. It's two love stories, really. The one that takes place in the present is between two unlikely candidates, the female a cultured intellectual scholarship recipient planning an art career in NYC, the male a talented bull rider. This love story is intertwined with the story of Ira and Ruth, a jewish couple married in the 1940s. Their stories collide when Luke and Sophia (the young couple) find Ira off the road in an accident after their first date. They rescue Ira and Sophia develops a friendship with him. In the end, it is Ira who brings them together after his death through an auction of the Levinstein's art. After Luke bids and wins a painting of Ira's wife by one of her students, the Levinstein's lawyer announces that it was stated in the will that whoever bid on and purchased the "least valuable" painting would inherit the entire collection since it was the most valuable to him as it reminded him of his beautiful, late wife, and the amazing person she was. In his letter, Ira states that while the collection is worth millions, he would give any of the paintings to hear his wife's voice again or see her smile. I lost it at that moment. I can't tell you how many times I have said that I would give anything to see you again, even if for a brief moment. I don't have anything worth millions, but it made me feel validated in some way to know that even someone with paintings worth millions would give them all up just to see or hear their beloved for another moment. Love is a transcendent emotion, one that unites us all.
Ira and Ruth had a long life together, albeit one that required sacrifice and wasn't necessarily easy. And still, Ira said how it wasn't enough. And that made me realize that even if we had ended up in a long term relationship, nothing would've been enough. Just some perspective there.

I am just doing the best I can everyday. It still socks me in the gut many days when I face how much I miss you. And then I struggle with guilt. Sometimes I feel parts of my heart wake up that want to love again and I feel guilty because I love you so dearly and don't want you to think that diminishes what we had.

It continues to be a struggle I navigate daily. I love you, and I'll be seeing you.

Remember

"Remember" ~C. Rossetti
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay,
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.


This poem has appeared twice in my daily life in the past couple weeks. It struck me the first time I heard it, and it struck me no less this evening when it appeared as a song setting we will perform in May. I can't help but think that this might be you speaking to me as you watch me struggle. I have been struggling with moving on. Here's another quote, quite the opposite of the above. " Grief is the last act of love we have to give to those we loved. Where there is deep grief, there was great love. "  I guess, subconsciously, there has been some part of me that has wanted to grieve deeply to prove to you and to myself what we had. Since we never got to say those words to each other in person, it's like this is my final way of telling you exactly how I felt. And for that reason, it's hard for me to let go. Letting go means saying goodbye to you, and saying goodbye to the dreams we had.

Recently, a friend asked me how I would want you to act if this situation were reversed. I don't feel that's a fair question, but it certainly is interesting to consider. I don't think I can begin to answer it because I can't understand what Heaven is like from my place in this universe. But you were always about living life to the fullest, so I can't imagine you'd want any less for me now.

As for what that means, that's where I get stuck. I don't think I lead an unhappy life. I was driving home tonight and "Crash" (DMB) came up on my playlist. This song has a lot of memories for me. It's funny how a song can transport you to another feeling in another time and place. I was instantly transported to my high school years when life was carefree and I had not yet experienced the really ugly parts of life. This feeling of hope washed over me. It is something I haven't felt since you died. Yes, I've felt happiness. I've felt excitement. But hope? No. That died with you back in August. In just a few chords though, this song brought that feeling back. It didn't stay, but its fleeting visit was a great feeling. I'd like to have that feeling in my everyday life but I am not sure how to cultivate it. My view of life was permanently altered on August 19, 2014, and I am not convinced it will ever be the same. How does one feel hopeful again after seeing how quickly hope, beauty, youth, and love can be yanked away in a matter of seconds?

 I guess I feel like this was the straw that broke the camel's back as far as relationships go for me. As you well know, I put 110% into everything, and you were no exception. When my divorce happened in 2009, it took all I had to be open to love again. When Dave left, and especially in the way he did, I didn't think I could ever love again. But when we reconnected, our hearts connected on a level I couldn't deny. I opened up again, and you were taken just a couple months later. Part of the reason the whole hope concept is difficult for me is that it is rooted in faith, at least in my mind. And God knows how upset I've been with Him. It's not been pretty. He's heard a lot of yelling, screaming, and crying from me in the past seven months. People tell me to put my hope and trust in the very one who has taken you away. So yes, hope is a foreign concept for me right now.

A heart full of love

Hung with your brother again tonight. Always brings so much peace and so much heartache to hang with your family... simultaneously. As the months wear on though, it's more peace than heartache.

I just can't believe we're here. There's basically been no resolution as far as your estate is concerned. I won't detail that here. But I will say that the legal system baffles me. To refuse to give someone information regarding your estate when you've been gone nearly 6 months? What is wrong in our world?

I feel a tug at my heart to step up and take your house. Would your parents want that? Is that ridiculous? I want to live in the town anyway. It's your place. So much of you there. Is that weird? It might be.

Sometimes I feel like I've got one foot in the past, one here, and one in the future. I feel like that foot in the past will always be there in a sense. I will always love you. You will always have a piece of my heart. Anyone who gets me will have to accept that your initials are on my body forever. #sorrynotsorry They'll have to accept that so much of me is wrapped up in you, and that it's beautiful just the way it is. I'm not saying there's not room in my heart. There is. But a piece of it will always be yours. Full stop. And the right guy will not only get that, but embrace it.

The one in the here and now? She can be a bitch. I wrestle with her daily. Do I self reflect? Do I act purely based on no day but today? She's always got something to say.

The one in the future is the trickiest. The sentimental sap in me says- take the house. NOW. Don't delay. Then the realist in me says "The new guy may be willing to accept the indelible ink, but not so much living in your home." And would I be able to handle it? Could I live there? Could I sit on the couch and make a new life while remembering making the pork rub in the kitchen? Could I ever go near that garage without thinking about the time spent there in your shop? I know I'd sit in the living room and think about HGTV marathons and snuggles on the couch. And the porch? Well, that's a whole other story. So the realist in me says "no". But my heartstrings say yes.

My heart is so full of love sometimes. Now is one of those moments. It's just bursting. I'd like to light up the world with the love I felt for you and with you. Our love was special. It was one that could've been a light to others. And that's why it feels so unfair to me now. It was meant to be that. And in one fell swoop, it was taken from the world. So ridiculously unfair. There's nothing that can be said that can make sense of this. Throw scripture at me. Throw platitudes. None of it matters with you gone. I wish I had words for the love that has filled my heart with you. I wish I could have you here for even 60 seconds. I'd throw my arms around you, hug you until you begged for mercy, and tell you exactly how I feel. And let you go all over again. Just let me do that. You haven't visited since September, and my heart just needs to tell you again. I love you.

Enormity and gravity

The enormity and gravity of one day.

I was on my way to the gym this week when I was overcome with sadness, yes, but more so with a huge realization. My life changed forever on August 18, 2014. When I think back to my life on August 17 and prior, I was much more carefree. I had worries over the stupidest things. Then Nick's accident occured and none of that mattered anymore. So I guess we could even say- the enormity and gravity of one moment. That's all it took to change my life, and the lives of countless others touched by Nick. 

I would liken it to my divorce in some ways. Before my divorce, I had always been the kind of person who set her mind to something, created some short and long term goals, set to work on them, and achieved them. It was always a linear equation for me, and a relatively easy one at that. I set my mind to it, I put in the work, and I exceeded my own expectations. My divorce was the first time that equation didn't see me through. I had set the goals, I had put in the work, and yet, we still failed. Why? Because my ex didn't hold up his end of the bargain. It seems naive 6 years later, but it was the first time in my life I realized that there are two distinct individuals in any relationship. And while those people share life together for a time, they can, at any point, choose to break faith with one another, and choose to no longer invest that time together. That's what my ex did and it permanently changed me. 

I feel the same way about August 18th. Nick was on his way to work on a beautiful summer morning, enjoying the sunshine and his bike. I am positive he didn't get on his bike that morning and wonder if it would be his last ride. But it was. Why? Because of someone else's negligence. Because of someone else and her what...? Distraction? Were the kids arguing in the car? Was the sun in her eyes? Were her brakes going bad? Whatever it was... She changed so many lives that day she chose to run that light. Nick didn't know it was coming until it was too late. I often find myself wondering what he thought in those moments. And in reality, I'm sure it all happened too fast and he likely didn't have time to think of anyone or anything other than how to avoid the impending collision. But I find myself wondering, nonetheless. 

I guess I kind of think of August 18th as the day I permanently lost my youth, in a way. When you're young, you tend to think you're invincible. You don't think about death as something that can touch you. And in one moment, someone I had imagined forever with was rendered quadriplegic with injuries that ended up being fatal. It's just so bizarre how life works. That someone's life can be taken in an instant with no warning. 

I don't mean to diminish the pain of those who have lost someone after a long illness, but it's so different, and I guess each has its blessing and curse. For someone in the grips of an illness, they have time to take care of affairs, spend time with family, and make mental adjustments. But there is the fear to conquer, the suffering and pain involved for the sick as well as the family around them. For someone who loses their life suddenly, I guess we could say it's a merciful experience for the dying. No fear to conquer. But that also means no time to say goodbyes. No time to minimize regret for either side. 

I've just been so preoccupied with the enormity of this. How life can change in an instant. It makes everything seem so trivial. We spend so much time waiting for the right moment. "We'll have kids when the time is right." "I'll go on that trip in a few years." We count on time, as if we have it to spare. And the reality is, we have no idea what we have. I could die tonight. When you start thinking that way, it changes you. It changes how you approach life. Take the trip. Stop waiting for the right time. THIS is it. There is no right time. Just do it. 

It seems so perfect that this lesson would come from Nick's death. Nick always lived in the moment. He was not the type to miss a party or a chance to give you a hug. Teaching us lessons still... 

Memories and photographs

I guess we've come to the morbid part of the blog.

I was thinking today how bizarre and terribly sad it is to me that all we have left of Nick are memories, photographs, and some material possessions. So much of what we know of someone comes from our five senses- what they look like, how they smell, the sound of their voice and laugh, their touch. I vividly remember the sight of Nick- 6'1" of beautiful olive colored skin, big brown eyes, awesome facial hair, long and silky dark hair. I remember the ink sleeves on his arms, the sandals he always wore (trademark hippie style), the chain he always wore around his neck. I remember so much about our time together this summer. The way his hands felt on my waist, the way it felt to hug him as he would hold me. The way he would nestle into my chest and breathe me in. The way I would run my hands through his hair. The way my face would feel after kissing him with all that facial hair. The way he always smelled like a combination of metal and wood from the shop and pork from all the cooking he'd do. The way it felt to snuggle into him as he would rub my back. The way his hands looked as he would prepare pork for the smoker. The way he'd lean into me on the couch as we watched HGTV. These memories are ingrained in my mind. And they are all based in my senses and the way they interacted with Nick.

I put together some of my favorite camp photos today and thought about this. How hard it is when someone you loved so much is gone and you can no longer hear their laughter, smell their signature scent, touch their skin, look into their eyes. I guess I always thought of loss as losing a relationship more than losing a presence, but now I see it is both.

All of these memories are you, Nick, and I worry so much that I will forget you. I worry I'll forget about camp. I worry I'll forget the look of concentration you had as you taught me about your pork recipe. The way I asked "Can I know what's in the rub?" And the way you responded "I want to tell you someday" with a wink. The way you looked into my eyes and said "You should come to Nashville with me this fall. We'd have a blast. You'd love it." That devilish grin you always gave me when you'd tease me. The way you'd whistle to Syd when she was off tracking a critter. The way your eyes would look when I came to you with a project idea and you were thinking of some way to kick it up a notch. The way you liked to tease me in front of our friends for being a "cradle robber" when I was a total of 9 days older. These things are you, just as much as your zest for life, your care and concern for others, your sense of humor, your prankster style, your ability to work with your hands, your love of dogs, your love of the great outdoors, and on and on.

I guess the bottom line is it kills me when I remember that these things are physically gone and I can never see them again here on this Earth. I am a person of faith, so I do believe I will experience all these aspects of you someday in some other place, but it feels like an eternity until that day comes. And every time I remind myself of these realities, it feels like someone has driven a knife into my chest. I cannot kiss you. I cannot hug you. I cannot comfort you. I cannot call you. I cannot help you build things. We cannot build my headboard. We're not going to Nashville. The days at camp will never, ever be the same. The five musketeers will be four, and sadly, a cloud of sadness will hang over the whole affair. I just never realized how much the physical loss of you would bother me as much as the emotional loss of you.

I guess that's why I enjoy visiting your house so much. It's an encapsulated piece of you. Your house remains the way it was when you left it early Monday morning, August 18th. Your bed still isn't made. You always thought it was a waste of time to make the bed, and I tend to agree. Your shop is as it was. The furniture is still out on the porch from this summer. Those bags of mulch I said I'd put in the garden are still stacked by the garage. You'd never let me put them down. "I'd rather spend quality time with you!" But some things are very different and remind me that you are gone. There were always empties by the sink and on the counters. Your siblings have taken those in to be recycled. The bathroom has been tidied up and your jewelry catch all is empty as your siblings have collected those pieces as memorials of you. The bench by the pond has been overturned for the winter. Your car is parked differently than you would've parked it.

Ironically, these things make me feel like you're still here and gone forever all at the same time. Your room smells like you, so how could you be gone? But there would never be a clean counter if you were here, so I know it can't be. You would've brought your bench in for the winter along with the furniture, too. 

I miss you so much it hurts to type this. Sometimes I find myself bursting into tears out of nowhere, and always, without fail, the first words out of my mouth are "I miss you so much!". I do. And I guess I thought it'd be easier by now. I also beat myself up and tell myself I have no right to miss you this much. I wasn't your long time girlfriend. I'm not one of your siblings. I should have moved on by now. These are the thoughts in my mind. But none of it changes the fact that my life changed forever on August 19th, and it will never be the same. I miss you, and I grieve the loss of a 20 year friend, as well as someone I had imagined forever with. Nothing makes this pill easier to swallow. We're going on five months and in many ways, I miss you more now than I did a couple months ago. Thankfully, I don't have that awful, nauseous feeling of fainting every time I think about the grief. It's more physical exhaustion than physical illness these days.

I miss you, I love you, and I'll be seeing you.

New Year's Eve- the most dreaded of days

It's been awhile. Grab yourself a glass of pinot. I'll wait.

Ready? OK! New Year's Eve. I think you either hate it or love it. I happen to not be a fan. And it was even worse this year. Who wants to remember a year in which you lost someone you imagined spending your forever with?

The day started out well. I went to WOD. I did get teary eyed during a lift. Happens often as I confront fears at the gym and think of Nick. Finished the WOD, went to breakfast with my awesome CrossFitters. Then, I went to get my car fixed and started thinking. And thinking. And thinking some more. The same way I always do. Why didn't I go see you August 8th? Why did I push so much? Why didn't I ease up and enjoy our time together more? Why didn't I understand your life and the demands placed upon you because you came from a large family? Why were you taken at such a promising time? Why, why, why....? I found myself pulled over crying hysterically. I didn't want to cause an accident. I couldn't see through my tear filled eyes, let alone focus on driving. Then, Alex texted me. "What are you doing tonight, buddy?" I was honest with him and told him I was having a really rough time and would probably do nothing. He said he was in the same boat. Then, it occurred to me. We'd been saying we should get together with Katie, and here was the chance. The three of us hate New Year's Eve and none of us had plans except to sit on the couch, drinking solo and being depressed. Not a recipe for a good evening.

Plans quickly changed! I made some stew and prepped the house. Alex and Katie came over about 7:30, desserts and drinks in tow. We all had our sweats on and were ready to spend an evening together. We did some mad libs, shared stories and laughs, and just had a fantastic time being ourselves and enjoying each other's company. They left a bit after midnight. We texted each other as each got home safely. All were thrilled to ring in the New Year together, and our hearts were full. And it left me wondering... how does this happen? Each of us had planned to wallow and be upset and none of us needed that. Each of us needed uplifting. Is it God who put it on Alex's heart to text me? Nick? The "universe"? I always wonder this. This is my philosophical question for you today. How do we get what we need? I do realize that the realists out there will say it just "happened". I don't think that way. Alex and I talk regularly but not every day. How did it happen that he texted me just at the moment that I was falling apart? I don't think these things just happen. So again, I ask... How do you think it happens that we get what we need? Is it fate? Does the universe give us what we need? Is it God? Is it Nick intervening? Is it a combination of these? I've heard all of these explanations used. Just curious to hear what you think.

There was one dark part of the evening. Nick's younger brother is the spitting image of him. I find it hard to look at pictures of him, honestly. He and his longtime girlfriend were out on the town and posting pictures to social media. The girlfriend is a girl I grew up next to, but she is about ten years younger than me. I babysat her and her brother for the better part of five years. They are awesome people and I love her dearly. Katie remarked to Alex that Ethan and Sheila had been together a long time. He said yes and laughed and said the family always wonders when Ethan will pop the question. Alex said they love Sheila dearly and that she's part of the family. And I got terribly sad. It was a moment I felt some horrible self-pity. Ethan and Sheila are great people. I wish them all the happiness in the world. And yet, here I was, terribly jealous of Sheila for all the things she seems to have coming that I will never experience. I love Nick's family dearly and would have given anything to be part of it. I will never get that chance. So I felt horrible- for having these chances taken from me and from Nick, and for being jealous of Sheila.

And yet... I am still getting what I need. In the midst of this horrible tragedy, Nick's family has drawn close to me and vice versa. Alex told me his parents want to invite me over for dinner soon. Nick's sister and I have plans to get together soon and also to go to Lilydale in the Spring. I thank God and Nick for these things. And I have no doubt that he is up there, asking God to help us all through these moments. These things don't just happen, in my mind. God cares for us, and he ensures he fills the void. "God never closes a door without opening a window." I am so blessed that Nick's family is my window, and I only hope that I can be the same for them.

You keep finding ways to tell me to pick myself up. Ray LaMontagne's Be Here Now came on this morning. Then Pearl Jam. One of your favorites. And now a Coldplay song that says it so well- "Warning Sign". Friends telling me to live my best life for you. To honor you. And I know that's what you want. I feel it. I just can't get there.

The truth is- I thought of you as my final destination. There was so much love, promise, and light between us. So much spark when we were together. No one had to be anything they weren't. We just let it all hang out.  I have no one else like this in my life. No one with whom I feel I can be completely myself. You were so one of a kind. I fear I will never find that again in my life. And what's possibly worse, I'm not sure I want to. I want you to be my final destination, even if it's not here and now.

I am so miserable today I texted my best friend to tell her not to bother picking me up for tonight's gig because no human being should have to put up with me. And that's the truth. No man or beast should have to deal with this. I am so full of sadness, grief, anger, and frustration, and it just wells up and pours out. I have no control over it. I have never felt anything like it.

Part of my frustration stems from the fact that no one understands where I'm coming from. Not that they should. It's a very unique situation. We were dating. We had a falling out. We reconciled, and were attempting to get together. Had set a date to get together the evening of your accident. And it never resolved because you were taken from us. I can't get over it. I don't even know where to start. How does one get over the loss of a love that was so promising?

And tonight I am supposed to sing a gig that includes "Set me as a Seal." Set me as a seal upon your arm, as a seal upon your heart; for love is strong as death. Even typing it brings tears to my throat. How will I possibly sing that?

There will never ever be another you

Platitude: A statement that expresses an idea that is not new; a flat, dull, or trite remark, especially one uttered as if it were fresh or profound.

Let me start by saying this: we all know how awkward that moment is when you try to comfort someone who is going through something awful. We all want to be the one who says something that brings some momentary comfort. Never before did I know that that is truly impossible. Ok, to be fair, maybe not impossible. But you're bringing maybe a small ray of sunshine into an otherwise cavernous abyss. I never knew what it was like to be the one on the receiving end of the platitudes.

"He's not suffering now, and he would've." ; "He's with God."; "God has a plan for this in your life."; "Remember the happy times."

Let's tackle these one at a time.

1. You're absolutely right on this one. He would've. And being the Christian woman I am, I tend to see this as God's mercy and grace. God took him partly to spare him what would've been a horrible reality for Nick. Nick loved the great outdoors. He loved to barbecue, ride his bike, and work in his shop. I didn't really see him sit except to drink a beer with friends or wait for some que to cook. So yes, he would've suffered. But that doesn't make this reality any less awful. I'm here. He's there. And I must live out what feels like eternity before I see him again.

2. Yes, and again, thank God for that. This one is a comfort, actually. I know my brain cannot possibly comprehend the peace my friend must feel being in God's presence for eternity, but again, I also know he's not here with me. I can't call, text, or visit.

3. Please don't ever say this again. It makes me want to throw things. What good plan could possibly include the death of someone so near and dear to me at a time that was so full of promise? I had finally thought God was answering my prayers. And it's not even that. Regardless of the way things ended up with us, Nick is loved and needed by so many here. This plan sucks. Sorry, God. God can take my anger. He's heard a lot of it lately. Check out the Psalms. I'm not the first or the last to scream at Him.

4. I do. All the time. And it is amazing and heartbreaking all at the same time. When you spend enough time with someone, you talk about the future. What you want to do, dreams you have, and how they fit into that. To think of all the happy times is also to remember all the conversations about trips to the Adirondacks, and down to Nashville. The headboard we still had to build. The dresser in your shop that needs a woman's touch. The media room in my house. All the projects we wanted to do. The trips we wanted to take. The concerts we wanted to see.

The most heartbreaking reality in all of this is that no one can ever be you, Nick. No one. I try to remember all the things I love about you because as the days pass, I imagine all those things as sand in an hourglass, slipping through my hands. Your laugh- I could listen to it forever. Especially the devilish one when you had a prank prepared. The way you'd look at me like you couldn't get enough. Your love of your dogs. The way you could take a project and put your own spin on it. The way your eyes would light up when you'd talk about your siblings and nieces and nephews. The way you could just as easily talk about something philosophical and deep, like your biggest fear. The way you could make anyone a friend. Your smile. It is one of the most beautiful things to me and one forever ingrained in my mind's eye.

God makes each of us beautiful and unique. He brings us into each other's paths for distinct reasons, at just the right time. He is the creator and cares for each of us more than we can know. I hardly think it's an accident that you reached out to me this past June. We spent two awesome months together a very short time before you went home. God designed that. And I'm so thankful to Him for it. It has made your leaving so much more difficult. But I have so many memories of you. When I prayed today, I told God that when He took you home, you took a piece of my heart with you. I suppose that's a platitude. But it comes from my heart, Nick. You will always have a piece of my heart. A big chunk actually.

A friend recently said to me: I'm sorry your heart has a Nick shaped hole in it. I couldn't have said it better myself. You are one of a kind, Nick. Always have been, always will be. I know I'm one of many here missing you, but I like to think that I have a piece of your heart, too.

"Death has no power to keep apart a love forged so deeply in a person's heart."

August 18th, 2014. 3:54 p.m.

Stumbling around the kitchen in a lazy summer nap stupor, I glanced down at my phone to see a call from a good friend. I had just seen her earlier in the day, so this call was unexpected. My heart leapt into my throat as I began to choke back tears. Sorrow and I are well acquainted. I had a feeling this call was not a good one. 

"What's wrong with Nick?" Those were the first words I heard. I knew immediately what they meant. My dear friend had been in an accident. Call it a hunch, call it an inner knowing. I had a feeling. 

The details came in in bits and pieces. Nick had been in a motorcycle accident on his way to work. It was not good. He couldn't be stabilized. There were many breaks in very important places. He was in critical condition. 

The day had started off like any other. I was off to a 10 am CrossFit class. I stopped at a friend's house to record my ice bucket challenge video. I lounged around the house, a luxury in the summer since I am a teacher. And this phone call changed my life. 

I called my mom, sobbing hysterically. She said she had heard Mercy Flight come in at that time, and we put things together, and realized how serious it truly was. I went riding to take my mind off things, but quickly realized I was on autopilot. Nothing was going to make this right. 

To make matters more difficult, Nick and I had planned to get together that evening, and I had so much to say. I had spent much of the day lounging because I was thinking about all the things I needed to say, and how I wanted to say them. Now a few hours later, I didn't know if I would be able to say them. 

I barely slept that night. I think I may have gotten an hour just from sheer exhaustion. I have never felt so helpless in my life. I didn't want to bombard his family and I am all too familiar with ICU rules. There was no way I'd be able to see him. All I could do was pray, so I did plenty of that. Pray, cry, repeat. 

Tuesday's early morning rays greeted me. It didn't seem right that the sun should shine and the earth continue to rotate on its axis when my world had fallen apart. But the good news was Nick had made it through the first night. I felt hope course through my veins. Nick has always been a fighter, and I knew he was fighting now. I spent most of Tuesday in prayer. I worked out, tried not to drive myself and others crazy. By Tuesday afternoon, good news was coming in. He'd been stabilized and there was blood flow to the brain. I began to think he would do it again. He'd come back from a horrific accident five years ago, and here he was, about to do it again. 

It was not meant to be. That evening, I got the call. "He's gone." I type through tears as I write this. The pain is no less searing nearly three months later. 

It's not supposed to be this way. I have faith, and I am a Christian woman, but I would be lying if I said this has not made me wrestle with my faith everyday. A beautiful, young, loving man; full of life, kindness, and in the best of his days, taken in a matter of seconds by someone's wrecklessness. 

Who was this woman who had hit him? What was she doing when she hit him? Why Nick? Couldn't he have had something hold him up that morning? While I don't understand why it was Nick and why now, I also struggle to think these things happen for no reason. I am one of those people who truly believes everything happens for a reason, the good, the bad, and the ugly. But it's a little different when tragedy comes knocking on your own door. 

So here I sit, nearly three months later, with the same question. Why, God? I am so angry with you. I am angry that you took someone I loved so much. He means so much to so many people. Why do you need him now, when so many of us here need him? I hate knowing that I have some purpose here to finish before I can see him again. Nothing seems important with him gone. And at the same time, I know Nick would not want me to cry. He wouldn't want me to give up. So I do my best to honor him everyday with my thoughts and deeds. He was the guy who would drop everything to help you. Everyday, I try to remind my friends and family how much I love them. I hope they know I'd do anything for them. And I can do this because of Nick's amazing example. 

Sleep and I are enemies now, for various reasons. Partly because to sleep means you must slow down. And as anyone grieving knows, it's in the quiet moments that the pain is unbearable. Quiet and alone with your thoughts, you live out the best moments with that person. It's beautiful and so heartbreaking at the same time. And then you beat yourself up for every mistake you ever made with them. I shouldn't have been mad about that. Why didn't I come over that night? So very many things left unsaid. They swirl around my head like ghosts that refuse to stop haunting me. The would'ves, should'ves, and what might've beens. The other reason sleep and I are at odds is because sleeping usually means waking up. There is a moment before you awaken and are fully conscious when life seems full of promise and hope. Then you come into the room and into reality and realize that you're right back where you started a few hours ago. He's still gone. You're still here. 

I plan on making this a daily recount of my musings, and I promise they won't always be so deep. But we all go through seasons in life, and this is mine right now. I'll leave you with a quote because they are about the only things that really speak to me these days. 

"I wake, haunted by a searing sense of the unfinished. By how things might have been. If only I possessed the magic power to give us a second chance. But I am no wizard; the trick I must perform is to accept what is."