A story about two boys, love, loss, friendship and all the messy in-betweens.
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As peculiar as what he said might have seemed, it drove Golden Boy absolutely mad with want. Because it was him, it was Starry Eyes.
Starry Eyes, who's words we...
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24 Dec 2017 22:44
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death ;
Dear someone,
It had come so unexpectedly. Sophomore year - the senior and junior prom that we wouldn't be allowed to attend for another year was around the corner.
My team had played the last game of the year and with our season's history, had made it into playoffs. We lost at the semi-finals. But that hardly mattered. Nothing mattered anymore.
Because he was gone.
One second he was there, and the next he was not. It happened so quickly, so unanticipatedly and no one saw it coming, least of all me. I couldn't understand it; comprehend it. My heart held a huge crater as they lowered the casket down into the ground.
It was pouring, the rain pelting down onto our skin, mimicking the way our grief showered down on us, drenching us in it's anguish.
It was unfair. So fucking unfair.
How could God take him away from me so soon?
We barely had time together and the more I thought about, the more I cried, the more I hated myself. He was well and truly gone, out of my life like he'd never been there.
But he had. And so prominently, he'd been there.
And now everywhere I looked, I could smell him, see him, touch him - or more so the memory of him. It was torture, knowing that he still lived and breathed in the crevices of my mind, because I'd never get over this then.
I cried more as they took him away from me, placing him six feet below, six feet too deep for my liking. My mother, being as strong as she was, held me as my body gave out. And suddenly I was a child again, and the only thing that could bring me comfort was her arms.
"Mama, it hurts," I put my hand over my heart. There was a physical kind of pain that just wouldn't go away.
"I know baby, I know," She cried silently.
I was never a happy kid, but he brought a light were others couldn't and only three people, including him had ever done that for me.
I didn't want to leave him as everyone flooded out the graves site like a sea of black.
I wanted to stay, to sleep by his side, let him know I'd never forget all he'd ever done for me and been to me.
Let him know I'd always love him.
In the days that followed, I got into therapy. They were worried that I didn't know how to deal with my grief. I didn't. And that summer saw the worst of it.
I'd never been a reckless child, but something in me broke.
I shut everyone out, I shut my body down and I let the pain devour me.
I drank and partied and slept around and wasted away to avoid feeling.
I ruined friendships and wrecked relationships, but I didn't care.
And when I was tired and worn, I let the looming depression come like a thief in the night and steal any semblance of happiness that was left - there was not much.
That summer changed me, and those who witnessed it could attest.
Because that summer, was the first without him.
The first without my dad.
I know this is supposed to be my story with Starry Eyes. I guess you can think of it as backstory to how our story changes - how I change.
And in the spirit of honesty, I guess I'm writing this now because tomorrow's Christmas and he loved Christmas.
Mom doesn't care much for it anymore. Too painful I guess.
