There are things that I am good at. There are things that I am bad at. I know this much about myself.
I excel at dancing offbeat to songs. I am silly and effortless. I can analyze my ass off: finding connections between the most extreme things. I am creative and quick on my feet. I am down to earth and witty. I make a mean grilled cheese sandwich. And above all, i am a pro at going with the flow. Sure i get stressed. Sure i break down, but i know how to adapt over time. It's what i am good at.
But i am also very moody. Emotional and defensive to criticism. A loner with intimacy issues. I don't know how to verbalize my thoughts in public. I can be clingy and cliquey. I am disappointed easily. I am careless with my feelings and often others. Oh and I suck at math. Like, seriously, i am terrible with numbers.
Lately 'dealing with Marie's death' is another thing i am bad at. Missing her is the easiest part of my grief. There is literally this big hole in my life where this person use to be. I see two awkward people walking down the street and I'm reminded of her. I hear a deep laugh from out of view and my stomach drops. I smell food and listen to sounds, i view sights and feel emotions that have all be defined in some way by memories of her. And i miss her suddenly. Violently even. Because the reminders are everywhere.
I remember dumb things about her, like the way her gums use to show when she laughed. The freckle near her nose that i use to stare at trying to decipher if it made her face pretty after all. I remember the height difference between us. How she towered over me, this big lanky girl with the wide hips. I remember her long toes, like fingers on her feet. I remember her rust colored hair that matched her eyes. I can't get the sound of her laugh out of my head. Or the way she pronounced my name. She comes to me in particles these days. Bits and pieces of a person i once knew. And ever so often, I forget she's gone. I forget that I cannot just reach out to her to put the pieces of her life and my memories back together again.
Missing her is easy. I am good at that.
Loving her however, that is hard.
I still remain in touch with her mom via text. I check in as much as I can to see how everyone is holding up. I am the only friend her daughter had. And while i am grateful to have them as an extended family I am burdened by the responsibility. Marie has put me in a position where I am living for two now. Her mom has lost a daughter. Her family has lost a sister and an aunt. I feel responsible for them now. Despite the bad relationships she had with her mom, and her hatred for her siblings. Despite her annoyance for/of her stepdad, we are now forever connected because of our loss. We are all lifetime members of a club we never wanted to be apart of.
And this, makes me fucking angry.
This makes me fucking angry at the girl I spent the last 13 years being best friends with. The one i went to prom with. The one i talked about boys and life with. The one I made plans with. I am disgusted by her pride. Her inability to come to me once shit hit the fan. Her selfishness and eagerness to give up. And now more than ever, I am just so angry that she couldn't conjure up some (fuck ONE) ounce of hope and endurance to stay. That she didn't consider how fucking miserable we'd all feel now that she's gone.
The other night, after a (anotherr) boy related meltdown (things in the boy department are getting murky), i went to text Kat about Sean and my feelings and something random James Franco lookalike said that made me antsy.When i got to my phone to vent to Kat there was a text from Marie's Mom and I felt so guilty, because i haven't texted her since Easter. I don't know what to say to her. Every time i send her a text i remember the day Marie died. I remember the numb felling. I remember not crying at first, because I sort of had a feeling that something terrible had happened. I remember then pain that came suddenly. Like a cut, that doesn't really hurt at first until you look down and see the blood. And I can't help but wonder if her mom feels the same way every time she sends me a text. Does she relive the morning they found her? Does she relive the same sadness of that day? Our communication is almost tortuous because of this, because if Marie were alive her mom would just be her mom, instead of someone i send 'how are you doing?' texts to.
She asked how I was doing (okay?). What my plans were for the summer (job hunting. photo taking). And when I planned on coming home to visit (fall. maybe. If i can save the money). I asked her the same questions as well. Neglecting to write Marie's name but alluding to her and how weird it feels that five months have passed. And then we promised to text again (as we always do). And to stay in touch (as lifelong members must). And I went to the bathroom and cried. Not out of sadness. But anger.
I am coming to terms with Marie's death. I am. I understand now that there was the Marie who worked hard to be a part of the world and the Marie who thought often of death and ending her life. The suicidality of her being was such a big part of her personality that I regret not seeing the signs too sooner. But it doesn't make me less pissed at her. It doesn't make coming to terms what her death easier. Instead, I am angry and frustrated and disappointed.
I struggle daily to understand who i am now that she is gone. Life some days feels like one bland taste after another. Sometimes, I feel dulled like the days right before I have the flu. When all of my senses are fucked because of the impending virus. Everything taste bland, everything smells the same. I still can chew the food, swallow the contents, muster the energy to stay afloat but i am going through the motions. I smile, I laugh, I joke, I love, i grieve but it's all a jumbled bland mess of existing.
And it doesn't make it easier now that I have to take in account being a part of another persons family. I want to remain in touch. I have to. I need to have that connection to the people who knew her as well. But i am anxious about my new role. By proxy, I can't be the daughter/aunt/sister that they lost. I am already failing miserably at doing so with my own friends and family (that's a dramatic stretch but you get what I'm saying), I'm not sure how to handle the weight of living for two. I am not fond of the position that Marie has put me in. There is this book called Carry the One about a loss and redemption that I've wanted to read for awhile. The title stems from the characters feeling of guilt and disconnect that stems from a pivotal death that has had an affect on them. And no matter what the characters do, achieve, fail at in life 'when you add [them] up, you always have to carry the one'.
I am angry at Marie for giving up on her life. I am angry that she was so consumed by her own depression she didn't consider how her death would affect everyone she knew. I am angry. fire spewing. red seeing angry because i didn't sign up for this.
