Accidental Ambivalence

One Year Later

Today is the one year anniversary of Iris’ death, a day that I wish didn’t exist.

In the last year, I can’t see a lot of growth in myself. I still haven’t allowed myself to fully grieve for him, and the standard stages of grief absolutely don’t apply to me. I accepted it immediately, I cried a lot, I isolated, and I was depressed. For the first time in my life, I was truly depressed. I’m not always entirely sure that I’m not still in that place. But I never got angry and I never blamed anyone.

That isn’t true. If I blame anyone, it’s him. I told him that if he wasn’t careful he was going to kill himself on that motorcycle, and I meant it. I had seen the way that he acted on four wheelers and dirt bikes, and I knew that the motorcycle wouldn’t be radically different. If he wasn’t speeding when he came over that hill, my high school colors weren’t red, black, and white.

The point isn’t blame though. Not telling Iris that I loved him is the only thing that I regret in my life, and I vowed at that moment that I wouldn’t allow that to happen to me again. I said that I would stop being afraid to say and do what I thought was right. The problem is, I’m not following up on it. I haven’t spoken to Project in over six months, and while I certainly don’t need or want to subject myself to any sort of relationship with him, I do enjoy the conversations we have. I feel this almost constant urge to contact and spend time with K, but I keep quashing it, ignoring it, pretending as if I’m better off alone. It’s almost like I’m saving myself for someone, but that’s clearly ridiculous: The person I’m saving myself for is dead, and I will never have another opportunity to be with him. It’s harsh, but maybe it’s time for me to be harsh with myself.

posted by nicalyse @ 5:02 PM