I find that it is worse in the morning as I drive over the bridge and see the teals and purples in the sky with the outline of the mountains. And it returns as I drive back home, looking at the blue sky, the marshmallow clouds and the sparkling water.



A month and a half ago, I was in the arms of one of my closest friends in Ohio; Peter Stephens. I sat in front of him as he laughed and smiled. I took candid photos of him playing cards. I remember looking at him and thinking "Man, I miss Peter." There wasn't anything to not like about him.

And a month and a half later, I was on a plane to Ohio to kiss his cold, lifeless face as he laid in a casket.

How do you even begin to process this?

How strange is death? How confusing is suicide? And how strong does your love shine when all is lost?

When I arrived on Friday night, I was too late for the visitation. I was well aware. And when I found out that the funeral was going to have a closed casket, I was deeply fearful that I would not have the opportunity to say good-bye.

The funeral was so difficult. To see photos of little Peter, so small and happy. To see the Peter I knew, with wild hair and a genuine smile. And more, to see little tiny Peter with that 20 year old smile he had... :)

Peter is so alive in my mind. I can hear his voice. His laughter rings in my ears. His smile is right in front of me. So vivid, alive and bright. It's still hard to believe that these things are no longer in existence.

After the funeral concluded, I was given the opportunity to say good-bye to Peter. It was just me and my friend Matt. Alone with Peter. I was terribly grateful.

They put him in the viewing room. I walked in, looked to the left. He wasn't there. I looked to the right, and his face was peeking from the casket. That was a powerful moment. To see him in the arms of death.

I didn't cry at first. I was in awe. It didn't look like him. He was wearing a suit, which he would never wear. And I chuckled for a minute, just thinking of what he would say about it if he could speak. His hair was shorter than normal. And it was just odd to know that his legs were covered by half the lid. He wasn't going to get up and he wasn't going to hug me.

I put my hands through his hair. I loved his hair.
I touched his face, so stiff and cold.
I put my hands on his hands.
It was all so true.

I was amazed at how much Peter's eyes and smile, made him who he was. This Peter in the casket was not Peter at all.

It's so conflicting to have Peter living in your mind and yet, so incredibly dead in front of you. It makes no sense and it's incredibly frustrating.

I don't know what I wanted in this moment. I just wanted to be with him. I didn't want to leave him. I put my head on his chest, put my hands on his sides and looked up at his face. He looked more like Peter this way. And I belonged in his arms. And as my tears would fall on his suit, I would wipe them off, as if it mattered.

What a powerful thing to know that never again will you see this skin.
You'll never see the hairs on his face or the details in his hands.

I went from silent, to sobbing, to outbursts of confusion.
It's impossible to understand why he left us, with no signs of sadness.
It's impossible to not wonder if he knew how much I loved him.

Nothing I can say will fully explain the last moments I spent with Peter in that casket.

I kissed his forehead when I knew it was time to go.

How do you voice the feelings that go through you when you know you are leaving your friend so alone and so forever?

I think those last moments I had with Peter will always remain in my mind.
I think I needed that closure, to know that Peter really wasn't alive anymore.

But I'll always remember him for who he was and the joy he brought to my life.
I'll always remember his mannerisms,
his outburst of laughter,
the mutter of his voice,
those strange sounds he would make,
the happiness he radiated
and the smile that could melt away all your cares.

I think that when Peter died, a little part of me died.
I think a little part of us all who loved him died.

How strange to know that he can't hear the melodies in music...
To know that he cannot see the beauty in the sky
or hear the whisper of earthly love.

"Peter,
I love you in every crevice of my heart.
What wouldn't I have done for you?"

It is true.
And it always will be.

And, oh, how heavy my heart is.
I feel so much weight from the sorrow.
Unbearable pain in my heart.
Like bricks in my chest.



This is true heartbreak.

Thank God it's Friday.

In other news:

This song is stuck in my brain. So bad.

I am worn out in every way possible right now.
And I don't have the energy to be honest anymore.

I left Facebook.
But I did not leave YOU Xanga.
You know I can't ever really leave you.

I also left Myspace, Buddytown and Blogger.
I left it all.

And if you want to know why,
it's because I care too much.

In other news:
I love graph jam.

And this year, I'm going to work my ass off until I can do photography full time.

It's gonna happen.
And I'm not going to let anyone get in my way.

:)

 

A wise man once told me
that I needed to be 100% okay with myself to be happy.
The good and the bad.
I had to accept it.
And at first, I didn't really believe him.
I thought to myself
"Surely, you have to critique yourself all the time
and yell at yourself until you're better."
But each day that goes by,
I have been trying to listen to his words.
And now, I understand more fully.

I notice it a lot when I am around other people.
I don't know what it is,
but I have always kind of held back?
I would shake in nervousness around people I didn't know,
or even just larger groups of people I did know.
I would constantly be thinking about what everyone else was thinking about me.
I couldn't say anything wrong.
So saying nothing was even better.
My life has been pretty much consumed with thoughts
of everyone else around me.
Am I bothering them?
How can I make them more comfortable?
Do they like me?
Am I annoying?
What are they thinking about me?

What a cage.
Seriously.

It wasn't until this friend sort of strolled into my life that I saw this.
It had become so natural for me to think too much.
I couldn't imagine it any other way.
But as he was so free,
it made me realize how I had put myself in my own little prison.
And it was this friend who gave me these wise words.

I've really tried to take this advice and apply it to my life
and I can't tell you how helpful it has been.
It's not being happy that you have flaws and issues.
It's accepting that
yes, I do have flaws.
I do have things in my life that aren't so pretty.
This is how I react to these situations.
This is who I am.
And I accept it. I am okay with it.
There really is so much freedom in that.

And from here, you can look at yourself and say
"This is how I would like to improve."
Instead of beating yourself up about every little thing
you don't like about yourself.
Or every little thing you fear other people won't like about you.
Insecurities.

I found this to be truly significant in my life.
I'm not sure if it will mean the same for you.
But I wanted to share.

I notice myself talking a lot more to people I don't know.
(I'm not totally there. Trust me.)
I notice that I do not shake
and I am not as tense around people.
I find myself accepting new moments.
Overall, I'm just a lot more comfortable when I stop thinking
about what everyone else is thinking.
I am a lot happier when I am okay with who I am,
whether or not anyone else likes it or not.

The anxiety that has been lifted from me is extremely noticeable.
To me anyways.
I feel a lot better.
When your mind is a prison, it becomes very stressful.
And it's totally unnecessary.

Change is good.