It seems these come few and far between lately, but then again so does my patience and my want to express what's going on. 

When is it too long?  Is it possible for something like this to go on too long?  When does it become time for me to buck up and shake this off?  I'm so confused by the fact that my emotions are as unstable as a giraffe on ice.  Logistically I feel like I should be more "over" this, but mentally and emotionally I'm certainly not.  I'm certainly better than a few months ago, but I still am not able to handle nor understand these fluxing of emotions. 

I was going along at quite a good pace there, in the groove if you will, and then a sadness pops up in a memory and it takes me days, and more accurately weeks, to free myself of that pain.  I've recently been going back to my thoughts of "why didn't I say this...", "why didn't I ever do that...", and "why didn't he see it as the waste it is?"  But, here's where I am confused - shouldn't I be past this? Shouldn't I be able to know that there is no answer to those questions, and to think about them is to only remain under their depressing capture?  Shouldn't I know all this by now?  I am not frightened that I will not overcome this place I'm in, but I am frightened that when I do people will have long grown tired of my inner roller coaster and will have moved on and away without my even noticing.  I won't even discuss how disgusted I feel every time I think about how really 'cush' I actually have it, and how there are other people in this world with heavier weights than mine...that's another depressing hook that has been waiting to reel me in for weeks now.

I still feel this need to talk about him, about how I'm feeling, what I'm thinking, what gets my turning because I know I can't do this all by myself - but, I'm scared to talk about it.  Scared that my welcome in the 'all-ears hotel' will wear out and turn off the very people I'd like and need to talk to.  Hell, even I get sick of how I'm feeling and of listening to the diatribe in my mind!  Never mind how others must feel!...and therein starts the silencing and self editing.  The cycle continues, the pretending goes on and I still sit in churn in the wake of this mess hoping I will not have alienated myself in the process.

I've been thinking a lot lately.  Thinking, but not writing. Was it exhaustion? Was it fear?  Was I afraid to sit and actually hammer out those mixed thoughts?  I think it was all of that and more, but here I sit now.  I sit ready to let myself think and allow myself the time to sift through the very thoughts that have me jumbled up daily, a grab bag of emotions from moment to moment.

There are no days I don't think about him.  I think about him daily, I talk to him daily, I pray for him and I love him daily.  I always will.  At first I felt weird about that.  It felt weird to all of a sudden find myself laughing because I know what he would have said about that lady that just walked by, I know what he would have said about that jerk at the gas station, I know what he would have said when I made an ass of myself in the kitchen.  At first I felt weird because it felt strange to say hello to him or tell him to go away in the moments where I didn't feel like letting him in.  It felt weird because I knew he was there, but the immediate public around me might not.  But, now it's different.  I don't feel weird about it.  I don't feel embarrassed if my boyfriend finds me laughing away in the car or the kitchen.  I don't find it strange because it's a part of me, he's a part of me and if this is how I have to remember him or communicate with him that's fine.  People can sidestep me all they want, they can glance at me sideways all day long, they can think I'm strange when I mention what he said yesterday, but they can't make me feel any worse than I already have.  Nope, no cando. 

In a lot of ways I don't see this episode of my life as a good or bad thing.  I don't see it as anything to be ashamed of, I don't see it as anything that should take me down with it - I see it as a part of me.  My brother, his suicide, and our relationship now - it's all a part of me.  In some ways it has made me a stronger person, it has made me weaker, and in some ways it has made me more sensitive, but overall it has shaped me more than I could every imagine being shaped in a timespan of 4 months and I can live with that.  I can't change my brother's choice, but I can change how I feel and deal with it.  Some days are easier to say that than others, but it's not so dark now.

For all my mental gains in this department, there's still a lot I have to do.  I can't yet put his picture up, it hurts too much to see his big smiling face.  I can't yet sit through church without crying, it hurts too much to remember the funeral.  I can't yet hear stories about him from others without getting teary eyed, it hurts too much to hear how much he's missed.  I can't yet listen to his recordings, it hurts too much to hear his voice.  I can't yet forgive myself for not telling him more often, or at all, what a great person he was when he wasn't being ugly.  I can't yet sit through a conversation about binge drinking without wanting to scream.  But, I can forgive him.  I can understand he was in a dark place and just wanted to feel no more pain.  I can't understand his decision, but I can forgive him. 

I can't remember any stories.  I've been trying to remember some stories between the two of us and I can't remember any.  I can remember his face, his walk. I can see him clammering in the fridge, I can see him sitting across from me at the dinner table, sometimes I can even hear his voice.  But I can't remember any stories.  I've got a couple, but not enough for eighteen years.  What will I tell my children when (or if) I have them? 

I was sitting at a red light today and suddenly noticed tears were streaking down my face.  I had trying to think of stories but all I kept thinking about was his graduation photos that arrived this week.  I kept thinking of his face, of him, of his presence.  His missing presence.  Nothing is the same without him.  I want him back.  Why does it have to be so final?  Hasn't this all been a big mistake?  I want to stop this nightmare and bring him back.  I'd do anything to bring him back.  I don't want to believe he's gone forever.  He was too good a person to leave.  Why didn't he know that?  Why didn't he stay?  Too many people miss him.  I miss him.  Not my brother, tell me it wasn't my brother.  Bring him back. 

Who am I pleading to? I don't even know.  I only know this is a mistake.  He wasn't meant to go.  He wasn't meant to go.  I want my family the way it was, it's too small now.  It's too quiet.  I want to laugh with him again.  I'm going to miss going to the farm with him.  Didn't he know that?  Can't he turn around and come back.  Didn't he know that this is forever?  He stole that from me, from himself, from our family.  There was so much more to look forward to.  I feel like I can just change his mind.  If I could only talk to him one more time.

I want grandma to tell me stories.  She always remembered everything.  She could put you in the moment, tell you all the details, all the conversations.  I wish she didn't have to be laying there, unresponsive.  I want my grandma to pull me up on her bed and tell me the stories.  She had so many.  I want grandma to wake up for mom.  I want her to hold her daughter and make her better, I want her to hold me and rock me to sleep like she used to.  Why now? Why now has grandma been replaced with this shell of a body? 

Nothing can replace them. Nothing.  And right now I don't even have the memories.  I don't even have the memories to make me feel better.  I'm lost.  Lost and missing the people I call family.  We've all been torn apart, divided by our pain.  We'll come back together I know, but right now is when I need them, I want them, want to help them.  Will this pain ever go away?  Will I ever feel complete again? 

I feel so alone.  Like a little girl separated from her parents.  I want my daddy to let me cry into his chest.  I don't want to fall asleep crying alone anymore, I want to feel the warmth of love wrapped up in a hug.  I want that safety to take away this pain and lonliness.  I want to not believe he's gone.