Sometimes I read all his texts, like last night.
It’s interesting because I can still hear his voice and I’m able to decipher what he means, no matter the word count. He could type stuff like a flat ‘No’ and I could still hear the inclination of his pitch while delivering the word. Something you can’t say about everybody in your life. It’s only a selected few that no matter what they say, you always know exactly what they mean.
I thought of him a lot today, I mentioned him three times, and I recently attached our work to a couple presentations referring to him as ‘my partner.’ As I sat back to review what I was showing it hit me, I’m starting to continue our work and someday, these pieces won’t be in my presentation anymore.
Sometimes I sit on the bench close to the office where we used to brainstorm ideas for documentaries we wanted to do. I smoke a cigarette and picture ourselves there in the summer, sunglasses on, motivated to produce the same type of work. Fantasizing about what it would be like when we were 40.
‘If you could do anything you want right now, what would you do?’
‘Run away with a hot guy. Idk.’
Most of his texts are this way.
He bought a jean shirt once and realized once he saw me, I had the same. ‘We spend too much time together.’ He would say.
It’s strange when you talk to someone and mention them every day as the contemporaries they are, and then they die, and you can’t do it anymore. Or like in my case, you do, only to look up to a bunch of sad faces, no matter what the memory is. Like when I mention he used to twerk, nobody laughs or tries to imitate him anymore, they just say ‘aww.’
Sometimes I’m rough to those who haven’t grieved because I would like them to try to understand, to hear me out. I never want to make them uncomfortable, but that is the outcome. It’s almost as if they think that by hearing about it, it will happen to them, they jump or startle. I don’t understand why they can’t just listen to me the same way I listen to them about who they miss.
You miss someone long after they die.
I wish I could talk to him about this.
Karina, also known as Grieving Young, writes about loss and grieving on her blog. She had so much support after the loss of her girlfriend and best friend from her family and therapist, but felt they didn’t understand because they hadn’t lost anyone. She wrote her first post to “get it out of her system”, and started finding people who related in such a profound way.
However, it wasn’t until recently she started using her name on the blog. Until now, she has been anonymous. In her words, “I finally felt heard. It means the world to me to be able to create something positive out of the excruciating pain I have experienced while grieving”. She hopes that her journey helps others feel less alone and helps in some way.
