my tears fell and froze | journal

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:100%;"]hi <3
this is my little journal of just notes and writings i'd like to get off my chest about my feelings and my life. this helps me cope and gain perspective! feel free to post or stop by, sometimes it's nice to have some company! ty <3

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:100%;"]i think i've healed. not entirely, of course, i don't think i'll ever be entirely healed, but that's okay. there are moments when it overcomes me, when it wins, but it's never for long anymore. i've put reigns on it, i've domesticated it; i've learned how to cope.

part of the reason i've been gone is because i relapsed. i was just getting stable again when my friend called me that night, four months ago. she told me he was gone. how could he be gone? my best friend. he was only eighteen. i was only seventeen. it didn't feel real. seeing him lay in that casket, scarred face caked with makeup, didn't feel real. his picture hangs above my bed. how could he be gone? he was just here.

death has been a constant factor in my life. from parents to distant family. i always thought i knew how it felt, i knew how to deal with it. nothing compared to the death of my best friend. nothing hit me so hard.

i think the hardest part of it was how. alone, violent, slow. it's everything anyone who fears death truly is afraid of. it's my own fear. he didn't deserve it.

i still visit him. i stop by his grave every monthly anniversary and replace my bouquet, tend to the necklace looped around the vase, replace his water-damaged photo with a new one. i talk to him for an hour, sitting on the ground. i watched as the soil went from loose to hardened, from dry to muddy in the rain, from dirt to grass. i watched the bugs crawl over it, and the men in the machines dig another just like his beside it. he's buried where his mom's grave was supposed to be- in the spot saved next to his dad. they haven't even changed the tombstone. no one expected this. this was not supposed to happen.

but he's with his dad. god, did he love his dad. i don't believe in god, but i believe in his god. the god he would always talk about and worshipped unfalteringly. he made me believe in his god, in his heaven, in his soul. i'll see him soon. i don't doubt that. we'll meet again, in a happier place. i'll meet his dad, i'll get to drive around with him again, i'll get to visit our creek with him again, i'll get to walk down the railroad tracks and across the abandoned bridge with him again.

i feel him watching over me, and i know he is safe now. he is in a place without pain or heartbreak, without the tears and the disaster. and i'll see him soon.

i think i've healed. not entirely of course.

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:100%;"]i'm grateful for those who have stuck around. after losing him i lost some of my friends. only a few really were there for me. my boyfriend has played a major part in this.

we've been together for about seven months now. he was there that night when i drove to the hospital. he held me at the visitation when i sobbed. he wiped my tears at the gatherings. he met him, even. he approved of my bf, told me he was a good choice, and went on to tell me what he liked about him and gave me advice when i needed it. he told me he's a good guy, and he was right.

i think he's the first guy i've ever truly fell in love with. my past relationships were nice, and sometimes i felt love for them, but i don't think it compares to this. i've put myself out there and been completely vulnerable with him. he's done the same for me. i understand him. i know his tone, when he's upset or when he's trying to hide something. i know the extent of his pride and the constant acts he does for me that go beyond his pride. i know his smell, his touch, i know his presence. he's familiar to me. i understand him.

he brings me comfort. there are times when i'm around my friends and i feel myself grow uncomfortable or just no longer 'apart' of the circle. i could be sitting in their room with them and laughing along and feel a certain unease. i'm not entirely myself around them- i don't feel completely safe. but when i'm with him, i'm safe. when we're in his room, i'm in his warm arms, i'm in the safe darkness of his room. when he lays his head in my lap, and i run my fingers through his hair. when i'm laying on his chest and play with the stubble across his cheeks, and he lets me. we can talk for hours, but we can also go for hours without talking. he knows, when we're at a social event, the very moment i begin to feel unease and want to go home. we have a code word for when we want to ditch an event.

he may not completely understand me yet- there are moments where i switch up and he struggles to understand what caused it. when suddenly i'm coping instead of at peace, when he tries his best to understand but can't quite. but in those moments, he shows me patience and love, asks me what i want and if i need a moment. he respects me completely, and even when he doesn't understand me, he tries his best.