I got this question in my formspring/ask box:
Do you think your life will ever be the same again?
This was my reply:
No, there's no going back.... Ronnie J was one of my best friends, he was like a brother to me. I've been thinking back these last couple of days, and so much of my life is made up with him in it. I don't think I will ever understand the great loss of him in my life-- or in the world. It doesn't seem real and I can't imagine it ever will. The closest I've gotten to the 'real' feeling is standing at his Honors flag with others who are just as confused, sad, angry, and at a loss as I am; or when I saw the transfer photos of his remains.... The news reports, the articles, the fact that I go between being absolutely numb and hysterical, none of that does it for me. Even seeing Vanessa, talking to Cruz and his mother hasn't hit it home for me yet.
Knowing that he would have been 20 today makes it that much worse. Knowing that on his last leave, we didn't get to see one another, even though we planned to rent Scarface and have Californication marathons, just makes me feel hollow. Knowing that I will never see his beautiful smile or feel his warmth or amazing hugs again makes my heart hurt. He had so much life to live and he will never get the chance to do so now. It isn't fair... and I can't help but feel guilty that he's gone. We were close, but I could have appreciated him so much more. And while I knew the possiblity was there for him to get injured, the longer he was there without incident, the more secure I became in his safety. He tried getting ahold of me five days before he was killed, and it's eating at me that I didn't see his message. I had no idea that I would never get to talk to him again-- that I would ever get to tell him I love him again, or to have him say it back.
I wish I could have done more for him.
My heart hurts... it's hard to breathe; difficult to eat and to sleep. I can barely be in the same room as people who don't understand what it is I'm going through, I can barely talk to them without wanting to scream at the top of my lungs. How does life go on after something like this? Please, tell me.
Tell me how my life will ever be the same. Try to explain that to me. Please. Tell me how to be brave and strong and not completely broken by his absence.
Would your life ever be the same after the loss of your brother?
---
I don't mean to sound like a bitch, but how could my life ever go back to what it was? Honestly? There will forever be this tremendous hole in my heart, where his laughter and hugs and general kindess filled space. This loss is marked so differently than the ones I've experienced in the last three years. I'm so used to people dying in stages, being older, or not being as close to them as I should have been... Sickness is something you don't necessarily expect, but sickness gives you time to prepare-- it's painful and terrible and it's heart-breaking; but it gives you time.
Ronnie was taken from us so suddenly, so unexpectedly. None of us could have prepared ourselves for this. One second he was here, and the next he was gone. He hadn't even turned 20 yet.
I would love for someone to tell me how to go about my normal life, because nothing feels normal right now. I'm literally walking in a haze where nothing feels real, not one damn thing. It hurts to smile, it hurts to laugh; I can barely get out of bed in the morning and most days, I don't; I'll lay there until I know I can't lay there anymore. It's easy getting to sleep because I am so emotionally exhausted, but my dreams are terrible or I wake up often, not sure of where I am or what's happened, and then it hits me again and I'm a mess. Since Saturday, I think I've eaten maybe a total of six or seven times. I can't keep things down without becoming physically ill. My eyes are so tired.... every bit of my body aches; not in physical pain, but from this exhaustion. It's too difficult to be around people who haven't been touched by this. If I'm not with at least one of them when out in public, I become so angry and so emotional, that I can't function. I walk into class and I burst into tears. There is nothing I'd rather do less, than sit through lecture and try to pay attention when my mind is going literally, one thousand miles a minute and then some.
That loneliness of being with people who don't understand is so heavy, that I have to remind myself to breathe.
If you could possibly tell me how to go back to normal, to go back to the before, I would be so grateful. If you could turn back the clock, if you could save him, if he had never enlisted, if he were home safe right now, life could go on the way it had before. But that isn't reality.
THIS is reality now. And reality has never felt so unreal or unfair as it does right now.
I can't even begin to wrap my head around Ronnie being gone. The words don't make sense in my head and I can't reconcile the boy I know and love, with cold death. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. And he's never coming back... and at the same time, even though I know it and I feel it and its evidence is everywhere I turn, I can't believe it. Because it can't be real.
Your best friends don't die. And they certainly don't die during war. So fucking far away, you can't fathom what type of life they were living, even if you did talk every single day.
Tell me how.
Tell me how not to drown in my grief; tell me how to breathe without having to remind myself to do so; to eat and sleep and smile and laugh without hurting; tell me how to go back and how to be okay and happy; tell me how to be alone.... because right now, loneliness is the worst thing; tell me how not to resent everyone who doesn't understand, because as much as I may love them, I resent them so much.
Tell me how.
