10:42

I've said countless times before that there are moments in life which can clearly define a "before" and "after" state of living. A moment so profound that it alters the course of your future and your perspective of your own past reality.

May 13, 2015 at 10:42am is one of those moments for me. I remember exactly what  my life was like before that moment, in that moment, and since that moment. Instantly, the world around me came to a screeching halt and my life's train derailed from its tracks. When an integral part of your everyday life disappears before your very eyes, it is the most abrupt thing a person can experience. When someone you love becomes nothing more than a memory, you can only react.

Why that moment? Because that moment is when I became aware of the reality in which I would soon be forced to exist. The beginning of a 17-minute phone call. A phone call I had been hoping never to receive, but also in the back of my mind been waiting for. Hearing the words "I'm here with the body of Christian Everett and I have been given specific instructions to contact you with some detailed information" stopped me like a stone. 
Chris was gone, and this time it was forever. There was nothing I could do to intervene. 
This moment in time happens to be exactly 12 hours (to the minute) since I spoke to Chris for the last time. And it happens to be exactly 3 days later (to the specific minute, again) when I arrived to retrieve his belongings, his cremated remains, and the letter he had left for me. This phone call is when I knew that these other moments would forever hold significance.

I've been heartbroken before - more times than I care to admit - by people I loved who ended up being a disappointment, by men I gave my heart to who walked away without a proper goodbye, and by the universe choosing to toss up a roadblock just when things feel like they're finally coming together. But no drifting apart or breaking up compares to the same kind of heartbroken pain and no amount of previous grief can prepare you for the world to turn on end simply by answering a phone call. 

Nothing can prepare a person for losing someone because they chose death over life. Because their struggles were too much for them to handle; because they could no longer find the energy to fight, simply to survive another day - no matter how much you loved them. 
Love can not heal broken people.  
A little louder for those of you in the back: LOVE can NOT heal BROKEN people. 
You can love them with everything you have, in every moment of every day until the end of time, and they will still be broken until they are ready to be healed.
It took me 2 years to realize that this was true and there was nothing logical for which I should feel guilt. No matter how many people said the same words, I needed to accept it for myself, in my own time: there was nothing I could have done to alter the outcome of the events from that night.
It took 2 years, a handful of loving friends, countless tear-filled nights, endless hours of soul-searching, and more love lost for it to FINALLY sink in: You can not save everyone; you can only love them. 
You can (and should) love them and support them, but you can not heal and save them. 
And that is no one's fault. 

More graffiti later,
~ A

Gone

Almost everyone who knows me knows the story of how Chris came into my life, and how he left it. 
For the last 2 years, I've wished I could have just one more conversation with him, just so things could be finished properly. I'm done wishing. 
After 2 years of questioning why and trying to pinpoint a reason, I've finally found one. 
I still believe that everything happens the way it's intended to. That there is some cosmic energy lining up the paths that are supposed to cross and creating obstacles to block the ones that aren't. 
After 2 years, I've finally let go of the "what if's" and started living my life for the "why not's." Just as Chris intended. 
Tell people how you feel because that opportunity may vanish after a moment, but the regret of your own silence could haunt you more than you possibly imagine. 
People come, and people go. Remember to let them. 
~ A


He promised her they would do it together. And then he left.
He told her they could weather the storm hand in hand. And then he left.
He swore to her there would be strength in their partnership. And then he left.
He said there would be good days along with the bad ones and assured her that as long as they had each other, they would make each day their own. And then he left.
He made a commitment to their recovery. And then he left.
He listed the benefits of changing bad habits into healthy ones, convincing her the changes would be worth it. And then he left.
He helped her find a path. And then he left her to pave it for herself.
So she did.

Desires

A little bit of creative writing for you!
Really, it's just punctuated graffiti. 
~ A


Once in a while, she catches herself lingering a little too long for what she tries to pass off as a "glance". 
Occasionally she finds herself wandering through the open fields of daydreams where their futures are sunflowers in full bloom; soaking in sunshine together, loving and beautiful. 
Sometimes, she gets stuck entertaining suggestions that taking action could inspire a change and things could realign and become a path to brightness and happiness with life.
Constantly, her heart and brain are at war with each other. Her feelings - too intense to ignore - are contrasted by the fear of rejection, and the agony of realizing that some things aren't meant to be. Perhaps they never were.
Ultimately, she realizes she's spending time planning for things that won't happen. She resigns to an unending span of days ahead, hoping in each hour for a strong longer-than-usual hug, a sweet kiss on the cheek, the gentle brush of his hand upon hers; the short glimpses of intimacy so many take for granted. She thrives powerfully on the tiny encounters in which he is solely hers; she desperately clutches them, willing them to sustain her until the next moment comes along.  
She loves him, and he her. The remainder, a difference between familial love and the love of a soul. 

Honesty

Anyone who knows me knows that I have certain expectations. Not high standards, by any means, just a set of expectations. Most of them go along the lines of "treat others the way you would choose to be treated" golden rule. I say "most" because I am realistic and have lowered my expectations because of my past unfortunate experiences.

Yes, it really is that simple.

I'm not expecting perfect actions all the time. Not even on a regular basis. I expect you to mess up. And when you do mess up, just be honest about it. Too simple to explain to some people, I guess.

Lately, I've had people (friends, acquaintances, even strangers) approach me to ask me a personal question of some kind. All of these approaches have gone something like this:

Them: Hey, can I ask you a question?

Me: Sure?

Then: Are you going to be honest?

Me: *blank stare*

I've adopted a canned response to this particular type of inquiry: Yes, I will be honest. I don't live my life in a way that requires me to lie or hide things from people. If it's too personal of a question, I'll tell you I'm not comfortable answering, but otherwise my answer will be the 100% truth.

Take this as you will. Comment as you wish.
After all, it's just punctuated graffiti.
~A

Respectful Friends.

New people take me by surprise. Often because I didn't realize that people would become so comfortable with me that they treat me like we've known each other forever. But also because I'm not used to friendships that aren't the same as the ones I've had since high school...

Talking about being sober often surprises people. Especially when I just met a group of new people at a bar. And bought a round of shots for them. I do have to say, the reaction to that particular moment was quite entertaining!

Last weekend, after the round of shots, I had a very fun Friday night with some of those newer friends. Ended up at a bonfire at someone's house and one of the people I had gone with actually turned and asked me this: If I have a few more beers, are you cool to drive back home?
Something about it was stuck in my mind and I just realized what it is. He knew I was sober, and that I would be staying that way. But he didn't take it for granted and assume I'd be fine driving his car back (though he did ensure I knew how important that car is to him) and still asked if I was cool sober cabbing him home.
I have friends I've known for way longer than I've known this guy and they don't want me around when they're drinking because it's "awkward" (another rant for another post) but they still assume I'm available to pick their drunken selves up from the bar whenever they are in need.

I guess I'm not yet used to this new personality trait in a friend. I think it's called "respect" and I kinda like it. I might need to keep this one around...

More graffiti soon,
~A

Words

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me."

I don’t know who came up with this saying as a comeback or mantra for little kids who are being bullied or getting called names. But it’s not correct. Words can DO hurt. A lot, actually.

Take it from this “fat kid” who was suicidal as a teenager because I had no friends that EVER stood up for me, while I was bullied literally every single day. Or take it from my skinny friend whose parents told her she “shouldn't eat that” because she didn't fit in her mom’s wedding dress. Or take it from the gay neighbor guy, who hears his sexual orientation being used as a slang term for anything “uncool”.  Or take it from the special needs adult that works at the local ice cream shop, whose developmental delay is used torepresent anything from “ignorant” to “irrational”. Or just take a moment to think back to a time in your own life when the words that came out of someone else’s mouth shocked you.

You’re probably curious what started this rant. Today at work, I heard the word “retarded” used 4 times. FOUR! I was am so disgusted, I could scream! Worst part? One of my own coworkers is the one who used it. First, it was used to describe a customer who was holding, waiting for an answer to a question. Second, it was used when a technician was asking questions on behalf of the customer whose home he was at. Third, it was used to explain the feeling of (apparently) frustration at the task this person was assigned to complete. Last, it was muttered under her breath when I asked a question about a call that she took and put on the board without consulting dispatch (me) and that should not have been put on for tonight and led to me having to call another customer and cancel. Frustrating? Yes. Retarded? Uh, no, definitely not. Here's a handy flow chart to help. Maybe I'll print one and leave it on her desk.

Photo credit: Huffington Post

Words can heal, I have proof of this. I've heard a story first-hand from a medical office front desk representative of someone calling to get an appointment to see the doctor and later telling the receptionist that she intended to end her life if that person on the other end of the phone couldn't have helped her. I have had the personal experience of talking a suicidal individual into coming down from a picnic table. Those stories are something that can really restore your faith in humanity.

But how often do you remember an event when someone said something to you that wasn't out of the ordinary? I make it a point to be positive in my words as much as I can. I try to tell everyone I pass to have a nice day and I do my best to say “please” and “thank you” whenever it fits. People might be teetering on an edge, ready to crumble over one side or the other. What you say to them could be the difference between making their day better or worse. It could even mean the difference between life and death, you just never know.

Try to remember that people are people, too. Don’t say things – even under your breath – if you wouldn’t want to hear them in passing. And never say something to intentionally cut down or hurt another person. It’s unnecessary and cruel. Plus, you never know the long-term outcome of something spat out in the heat of the moment. Usually, they aren’t good consequences.

More graffiti later,

~A

Brother

Myself, my partner-in-awesomeness, and my brother.

Today is my big brother's birthday. Ahem, even though his 3 children think it's hilarious to remind me that they all think he's my younger brother. Not my fault that I act more mature than he does! Ha! But in reality, he's MUCH older than I am.

He's been part of my family since I was 8. He was instantly the older brother I always wanted and couldn't understand why I couldn't have one! When mom took a work trip, he called me in sick to school every day and we spent the time together instead (Oh, just in case you all didn't know: you can't play Clue with 2 people!) As a teenager, he was always reminding me to make good choices, but also keeping in mind that it's ok to have fun. He protected me by coming out in the middle of the night to get me from somewhere when I realized I wasn't safe. He saved me.

Now, he lets me be a big part of the lives of his 3 kids, and I am grateful for that. We are both at a point where we are about to venture on into the unknown with the next phase of our lives. And that's ok. Because we'll do it together and see what happens. Always there with a sarcastic comment, or sincere advice from the heart, he's the brother I had always dreamed of. 

We've been through some ups and some downs, but I know he'll be there for me whenever I need him. And he should know the same goes for him needing me. He's made me laugh, made me cry and makes me want to punch or break something on an almost daily basis. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

More graffiti soon!

~A