So Close (a James Hetfield story)

Chapter 29

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1986 - 1989

Seeing James at Cliff's funeral triggered a much needed change in me. Before that day I'd been a barely functioning mess, completely lost in a sea of sadness so vast, I was in real jeopardy of drowning in it. Though the realization that our whole past had been based on lies was even more painful than finding him cheating, seeing him had been the mental slap I needed. Sure, the sadness turned to anger, which wasn't much better, and there was a brief period when my hurt and anger turned to what I thought was hate; he'd wrecked me so completely and it was the easiest emotion to give in to. I'd imagine him in front of me and how I'd let lose my fury on him, destroying him like he'd destroyed me. But I realized pretty quickly that I could never truly hate him; somewhere in that fucked up head was still the kid who had become my best friend years ago. I hated the choices that he'd made and I hated how he had hurt me, but as much as it hurt to admit, I was never going to be able to actually hate him.

After some time, I was able to see things more clearly, though the ache of his betrayal was constant, no matter how much time had passed. I knew my love for him had been deep and pure. He was everything I had wanted and needed, but clearly that wasn't true for James. I had truly believed that we were happy and fulfilled in our relationship and that James had found the peace and love that had always been missing, but I'd been wrong. I wasn't what he needed, and eventually he had looked elsewhere. I knew there was nothing I could have done to change things, I couldn't have loved him more or been more supportive or more attentive. I did a lot of soul searching and came to the conclusion that he was far more damaged than even I understood. He didn't want the kind of love and the kind of relationship that I had offered him. I didn't know what he wanted, maybe he didn't either, but I finally began to see that it was a waste of my time wishing and dreaming for a person who didn't even exist, who in fact, had never existed.

So eventually I became tired of feeling sad and tired of being angry, actually, I was fairly embarrassed by how long I'd let myself wallow. Even though everyone assured me that with everything I'd been through, I was entitled to deal with things in my own way, instead I just felt ashamed for giving up on myself and my life. James had been a huge part of who I thought I was, but he wasn't everything, he wasn't the only best parts of me. I wasn't going to lock myself away for the rest of my life because the boy I loved hadn't loved me back. Suffice it to say, I kicked my own ass out of the house and back into the world.

It was terrifying at first. I hadn't been me without James in fourteen years, I didn't know who that person was anymore. I had to stop seeing everything through the perspective of his thoughts and inputs and reactions. I felt incredibly alone and vulnerable, but I had an amazing support system in my friends and family. They were unfailing in their love, and it was a much needed reminder that genuine love did exist.

Some days I felt almost whole again. Almost. But maybe that was what I told myself so that I wouldn't backslide. The life I had always assumed that was meant for Jamie and me, it was a bitterness I couldn't completely rinse from my mouth, but I learned to live with it.

When my housesitting stint came to an end after six months, I used it as an opportunity to make a real change. As much as I loved living in the Bay Area, there were too many memories and too many opportunities to run into James. Instead, I went full circle and moved back down to L.A. Declining my parents' offer to move back in with them, I rented one half of a small duplex in Santa Monica that was located only a few blocks from the beach. The proximity to the beach was the major reason for moving there. Yes, being at the beach reminded me of James—hell, everything reminded me of James—but I found comfort there. Every afternoon, I'd walk along the shore and breathe in the sea air while watching the sun sink into the ocean. It brought me peace and became part of my healing process.