barefootgal

I literally have one friend in my life right now, and he's not the type to be interested in emotional waverings, and so I'd like to share something I wrote, because it seems there's no one else to share it with. Sorry it's a little long.... I think sharing things like this is a huge release, and I'd love to read things others have written!

I think I’m fine one minute, and the next it all just hits me like a ton of bricks. I like to be eloquent and descriptive when I write, but I feel as though it’s all lost in the part of me that disappeared the moment I found out he was dead. A piece of my heart is torn out and I’m not sure it will ever be repaired. As it is when any disaster strikes, the remainder of the world expects you to briefly mourn and then return to normalcy. I’m not sure how that’s supposed to happen, especially when I feel like I’m keeping this secret that not even he knew.
I remember the first week I was in town, and he wanted to go for a hike – so being new to the mountainous surroundings and donning my new hiking boots, off we went. Fifteen miles later, carrying my hiking boots and walking barefoot with blistered feet, I had experienced one of the most exhilarating days to that date. I also owe my first ‘sleeping under the stars’ experience to him. He went through all the sounds of a Rocky Mountain night with me as we slept along a lakeshore. I surprised him by waking his hungover body up at the crack of dawn to hike to some waterfalls… a plan which my hungover self momentarily regretted halfway there. I remember playing tennis together at night, a sport which he was new to… yay, finally something at which I could outdo him. I remember the night somebody slipped something in my drink and he cleaned me up and carried me back home after I had blacked out and vomited all over myself. I remember the day he walked in and asked me to kiss him because he’d gotten his tongue pierced for me. Oddly, I remember his fondness for the Squirrel Nut Zippers, and the time we went to a then not so well known, String Cheese Incident concert. I remember my glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars, which he thought were better suited to his bare chest. I remember him two weeks ago, genuinely telling me he wanted to hear me play the piano and I remember him three weeks ago, making me feel strangely warm after telling me how beautiful I was. Today though, it all feels like a dream I made up in my own head.
Thinking back almost exactly 6 years ago when I dated him, which I always foolishly and nonchalantly tell people lasted only two weeks, when in reality it was 2 months of inseparation, I realized something about him: when we were dating, he had his mom help him bake me this beautiful birthday cake and he brought the cake to my room with roses – you could just see him oozing pride. Then a short time later – being young and stupid and insensitive – I broke up with him for another guy, even after he told me how much he cared for me. I watched him cry and cry and I never thought we’d be friends again. We were friends again though, because he was gracious and forgiving, more than anyone I’ve ever known. Almost every year since then, he has been the one person I could count on to celebrate my birthday with me, even if it was just the two of us drinking alone at a bar. I will forever treasure my 26th birthday, a night he celebrated with me just 5 days before his death.
. I left town for almost 2 years awhile back(he helped me pack up everything the night before) and we kept in touch by email. During this time he met a new girlfriend and then went overseas for a few months. He never talked to me about her, in the same way that I never talked much to him about the people I dated. Just as I returned to town, he was getting back from his journeys abroad. A big group of us went to a bar one night and his girlfriend was infuriated because the two of us sat and talked all night. Shortly after, they broke up, and again I found myself engaged in those wonderful late night outdoor conversations about life with him. I’ve never known anyone other than him who was fully game for backyard camping in mid-winter when we’d had a few drinks and I made the suggestion, or rather, got the tent out and insisted he help me pitch it.
Was this past month just ‘no strings attached’ fun or was it more for both of us? I know he was interested in a girl, and I’ve had my crushes recently too, but were they just fronts? I was frustrated because he suggested having a party at my house on October 30th… a combo Halloween/Birthday celebration, and then suddenly he was going on an ice climbing trip. If anyone understands the need to spend time outside exploring, it’s me, but damnit, it was Halloween…. Tradition calls for all of us going out together. We talked about it that Monday on my birthday, and he said, “you know, you can come with” and “besides, Saturday isn’t Halloween, Sunday is and I’ll be back then”. And so he went…. While I moaned all weekend that “he bailed” and kept thinking how lame it was without him, Sunday rolled around and another friend called. I said, “Hey, is he back yet? I need him to come hand out candy with me”. I hung up the phone and proceeded to grab a Butterfinger from the candy pile. My tongue barbell split in half and I was like, “What the hell? I’ve never had one of these break, ever.” The phone rang and someone was bawling – after I demanded he tell me what was wrong, all I heard him get out was the name. I said too calmly, “is he alive?” knowing full well he wasn’t. He died after falling over multiple cliffs, the same day that he’d suggested having a party at my house. What if I, instead of not really responding much, had been enthusiastic about the party idea, which of course I was internally? What if I’d gone on the trip and had been with him that morning – maybe they would have left later. What if I’d never loaned him my brother’s climbing shoes and harness six years ago? I can “what if” all day, but the fact remains, it happened. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with this when every time I look at my bed I see his warm body laying next to me. Every time I get into my car I envision myself singing a song while I see him out of the corner of my eye watching me intently, and then he leans over and kisses me and smiles. I lay on my couch and look over and see him stretched out watching TV with me. I wake up in the middle of the night and I see him get up and go into my bathroom for water. I go into the kitchen and see him eating cookie dough as he watches the cookies bake in the toaster oven. I sit at the kitchen table and envision playing blackjack with him. I look at the phone and hate myself for not returning his last phonecall to me. And when I came across the empty condom wrapper on the floor today, weeks later, I am sad because he never knew my secret, the one I'd discovered just weeks ago– that I loved him back. What now?