I know I said I was too lazy to write tonight, but something happened and I just need to clear my head.
Today marks an official month since we buried Ronnie. Every mile stone since he's passed, seems so absurd. Like it honestly cannot be real. It doesn't matter how many days go by, it all hurts. Some days, it's a dull throb in my chest, a steady but faint reminder; other days, the pain tears through me repeatedly and I am completely incompaciated. Either way, it's always there and I'm always aware of the ache.
My mom and I were watching the Ghost Whisperer. Usually it isn't a show we watch; we record it, but there are other things we'd rather watc, so it just kind of sits there and the episodes pile up. For some reason, I started watching them tonight.
The episode that came on was about a man who came back from Iraq with PTSD. He was being followed by the spirirt of the men in his unit... and it just set me off. I couldn't help it, by the end of the episode I was in tears...
Today has been off all around. I woke up emotional, not able to remember what I dreamt about and I feel disorientated.
In the past week, I've run into Vanessa twice. Which is odd. I haven't seen her in a few weeks and I've literally never run into her before, on campus or otherwise.
I almost feel like maybe, Ronnie is pushing me towards her. I don't know why, but it just seems so strange to run into her twice, in a span of three days, when it has never happened before. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, that it's all just a coincidence...
Marquis and I have talked about seeing one another soon, for coffee and to talk.
There are things I'm still beating myself up over concerning Ronnie.The fact that the last thing he said to me was my name and the fact that I missed his message, and immediately thought it was okay because there was always another day to talk.
Not seeing him on his leave because I was in Chino basically the entire time. Even though we had spent months making plans with one another for when he was home. Literally, months of talking about what we'd do with one another, even for a day, because we missed one another so much. I wish I had fought harder to make him come see me while I was working. Or that the odd night I was home, I wish I would have called to see if he was busy.
I regret that I never got to see him again, or hug him, or hear his voice.
"Don't you wish you could go back to when you hadn't lost anything?"
Right now, I know he would be kicking my ass about my schooling. But I also know that he'd be proud of taking charge of a few things in my personal life. And he'd probably ask me why I felt the need to dye my hair black and pierce my nose, why such drastic changes when I was perfectly fine the way I was? Regardless, he'd support me. I find comfort, even if it's small, in that simple truth.
No matter what, as long as I've known him, he has always supported me, even when he didn't necessarily like or understand what it was I did or wanted. He never once took away his kindness or love, due to my stupidity or innate stubbornness.
Everyone says that time heals all wounds... I don't expect miracles, I don't expect to wake up one morning perfectly fine, without a hole in my chest. I really don't. But I didn't expect to still be this lost a month later. But then again, I don't really know what I expected at this point.
Well, no, I do. I expected to wake up from the nightmare.
Some days, I feel like if I believe hard enough, if I wish long enough, this will be a mistake.
That even though we've all gone through the motions, that without a doubt he's gone, there's been a mix up and he's recovering from an injury somewhere.
I suppose it's one of those things where if you knew him, you'd understand how completely ridiculous it wold be for him to be gone. With Ronnie, the reconcilation between him and death, it just doesn't make any sense. He was the antithesis of death-- he was life personified. It could be almost anyone else and the shock of it wouldn't nearly be as great.
So yeah, some days I wake up and expect to find out the last month has been a mistake. That the last 41 days have been an incredible misunderstanding and the pain we all feel, hasn't been due to us. That we can wake up and laugh, as this little mix up will be a memory to all of us who have lived through it. And he would be there, laughing and glad to be alive, and completely aware of how much he is loved and appreciated. Not just by the family he has made here in Rancho, but by his fellow troops, and those who did not know, but were still touched by his incredible life.
Me: Well, regardless of what you think of yourself, I fucking love you.
Ronnie: As I love you.
I miss our late night talks so much.
Out of everyone, he's the one person I want to talk to right now. The only person I've wanted to talk to since befoe he passed... He's the only one I'd trust right now to be gentle with me, but honest... I just miss his warmth. And the fact that we've put up with each other's "bitching" for the last seven years like no one else could.
It really has been like losing my brother. That isn't an exaggeration.
I wouldn't wish this pain on my worst enemies.
I wouldn't wish this on anyone.
