Knowing You're Not Alone

Three:
the number of girls I talk to about losing our boyfriends.
Although that number takes up less than a hand's worth of fingers, three somehow feels like thirty. Three hundred. Three THOUSAND. Counting doesn't seem to do them justice because numbers fail to quantify how much those three women mean to me.

Our four stories are not the same. One death was a tragic accident, another medical, and the other involved the same drug that took Blake's life. For a couple of us it's still fresh, the other two it's been a few years. There are also differences between how long we dated, the role we were allowed to play in the funeral, our continued relationship with their families, how we react to new men, and our general methods of coping with this unfathomably difficult situation.

But connecting with these women isn't about comparing who has it the worst or who is the strongest now. It's not about our disparities at all. What sets us apart melts away because we have this immediate and innate foundation of understanding. I feel like I can tell any one of these girls my scariest fears, most shameful thoughts, or wildest hopes. They may not feel the same things, but I know they would accept these confessions with a love that can only come from having "been there."

This is the power of knowing 
you are not alone.

It makes me sad that we've been conditioned to mask ourselves in front of each other. We are taught that the truths about our lives that may not look as pretty splashed all over Facebook are worth hiding. Ignoring. Denying their existence. When in fact, these are the building blocks that shape who we are and create meaningful bridges between us and other people.

I may never have met these three courageous and inspiring women if it wasn't for us reaching out to each other. If in that moment we chose pride over vulnerability, we would've never known the power of each other's company. We might have spent months, years, our whole lives thinking we were alone, believing that no one could possibly understand what life is like for us.

Four:
I was contacted tonight by a girl in South Carolina who's boyfriend also died in May of a drug overdose. Although we have no mutual friends, she stumbled upon my blog and bravely shared her story with me.

As we messaged back and fourth, I was reminded that the world is such a confusing, but beautiful place. Somehow the ugliest experiences are the ones that provide the pathway to the most life changing connections. If we open ourselves up and risk judgement, we will be rewarded with the unparalleled gift of knowing that we're not alone.

It's Ok to Move Forward

Today I feel lighter.
There is a lightness in my body and mind that I haven't felt since before Blake passed away.

The medium called me again this morning to check up on me after our intense conversation the other night. He told me immediately that I sounded different. When he brought that to my attention I realized he was right. I did feel really different.

He said he was blown away by my connection with Blake. Initially he had some idea of the depth of it, but after talking with both of us he came to understand that our bond was greater than he realized. Probably greater than we even realized. It felt amazing to hear him validate what I already knew somewhere imbedded in the fibers of my being: what we had was special, what we still have is special.

What the medium acknowledged is something that I have had a hard time getting other people to understand. Moving on for me doesn't mean belittling my relationship with Blake, making it seem like we had less of a connection than we did, or making him out to be an unworthy person. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I recognize what a true love and soul mate he was to me, but the circumstances of where he was in life cut our time together short. Because he was unable to learn the lessons he needed to in this lifetime, a life together became impossible.

So my lightness comes not from a diminishing belief in the love that we share, but more of a comfortable detachment from Blake. This means that for the first time I can separate myself from him and our love to see the bigger picture. Although I believe Blake is one of my soul mates, because of his choices he is no longer meant for me in this lifetime. Desperately holding onto him will only end up holding me back from enjoying the rest of my time here without him.

The medium told me that as a gift, Blake said it is going to be his mission to connect me with a soul mate who can be all of the things he wasn't able to be for me. At first this scared me. Does admitting there is someone better for me conflict with saying Blake is a soul mate to me? Will moving on mean that I love Blake less? I can finally answer both of these questions with a firm "No." When that time eventually comes (which, admittedly, probably still won't be for a while) and I can see this new person as a gift from Blake, I know that it will be ok accept it and that I deserve it. Moving on won't mean loving Blake less, it will mean finally loving myself more.

Focusing on Me

Every year I start my birthday countdown over a month in advance. I mark off each day with anticipation, thinking about what I'll do, who I'll spend it with, and how much cheesecake I'm going to consume. But this time I was blindsided. When I saw that the date today is October 1st I realized my birthday is less than ten days away and I didn't even care. If fact, I was dreading it.

I thought back to only two weeks ago when it was Blake's birthday. I started planning three months ahead for my drive out to Arizona for that weekend. I wanted everything about that day to be perfect for him. The flowers, the gifts, the cemetery visits, everything. Even though I knew I couldn't spend Blake's birthday with him, I thought incessantly about how I could feel as connected to him as possible during that time.

Looking back on the amount of energy I put into Blake's birthday makes me feel strange about the attitude I have towards my own. But this stark contrast isn't only about birthdays. Actually, it's not about birthdays at all. The opposite reaction to my birthday only stands as a reflection of a bigger problem: in letting myself be consumed by mourning Blake, I have pushed my own needs aside.

Since Blake died, I feel incompetent at taking proper care of myself. Most days I'm just grateful that I got my body out of bed, so what that body looks like doesn't seem as consequential. This means wearing glasses every day, no make up, and ragged hair piled messily on the top of my head. But this apathy isn't limited to just the superficial care. I also find myself choosing to ignore basic practices that keep me healthy. Eating well, sleeping, exercising, and time with friends are all casualties added to the list of things that no longer command my attention. It's nearly impossible to focus on myself when my mind is working at full capacity ruminating about Blake.

So as crass as this may sound, I need to remember that I am the one who is still alive, not him. I am the one who still has the ability to learn, go on adventures, meet new friends, and have birthdays that serve as more than just a day of remembrance of the life I once had with the people I once shared it with.

Gradually I need to shift my focus back on to me, my health, and my future. Although it's going to take time to learn to prioritize my personal needs over my preoccupation with Blake, I am going to take the first step by starting with my birthday. I will take back the happiness associated with one of my favorite days of the year and reclaim it for myself. Because I am alive, and that is reason enough to celebrate. My birthday this year will be all about appreciating my life, the people who are a part of it, and creating new memories with them.

And cheesecake, lots and lots of cheesecake.

Facebook Relationship Statuses After Death

Blake "Was in a relationship with Briana Wagner."

Blake's Facebook profile has been in what they call a "memorialized state" since right after he passed away. It wasn't until recently, however, that I noticed that with this new state came a change in his relationship status. Since I spotted it, I've read that sentence probably 100 times. The insertion of that infuriating three letter word filled me with more anger than was justifiable, but felt like a stab in the heart nonetheless.

Was.

I checked my profile to see if it made the same switch. Nope. Mine still proudly displays "In a relationship with Blake," not was. I honestly don't mind my Facebook still saying "In a relationship" because I don't want anyone to think I'm single anyway. I'm not single. I'm not ready for anyone to consider me single either. The present tense for me feels very fitting and accurate.

I know it may seem ridiculous to analyze my relationship with Blake in terms of something as trivial as Facebook, but I think it creates an interesting parallel for how things actually are. By the very nature of death, Blake's relationship with me is in the past. He is no longer alive so he cannot currently be in a relationship with anyone. Even though it hurts to see "was" connected to his relationship with me, I do understand that it makes sense. As for me, a living, breathing person, I am able to still presently be in a relationship. Although the "with whom" part of the relationship is questionable to some people, I am still currently in a relationship regardless.

The crazy part is that the dynamic of the nebulous "with whom" is actually accounted for too. If I ask a friend who isn't Facebook friends with Blake to look at my relationship status, it only says "In a relationship." Period. Blake Norvell no longer exists to them. So although my relationship is still present tense, his name is not there anymore to anyone other than me and the people who were friends with him before he died. 

I don't know if the people at Facebook purposefully thought all of this through, but the accuracy of how the memorialized state of Blake's Facebook changed our relationship statuses is chilling. Not only does it reflect the duality of being both past and present tense for him and me, but it also demonstrates how different people outside of our relationship view it. While some people know him and know our connection remains, others see me as simply in a relationship, trying to hold on to something that isn't there anymore.

At least when I look at my status it says exactly how I feel. Briana Wagner is "In a relationship with Blake." That is what really matters.

"How Are You?"

After “Hi,” most conversations start with “How are you?” When I was taught manners and social etiquette, it was engrained in me that this was the normal follow up when greeting someone. But I’ve noticed that “How are you?” is generally an empty question. It’s brushed off with a simple “Good, you?” “Good” and then the actual conversation begins. In my experience, an answer besides “ok” or “fine” or “good” interrupts this rushed formality and is seen as almost a hindrance to the progression of the interaction. So “How are you?” has become less about wondering how exactly someone is doing and more about being polite.

As anyone going through grief or a trauma knows, “How are you?” switches from a harmless social formality to a daunting inquisition. From the moment the question is posed, a battle starts in my mind. Should I actually tell them how I am? Do they really want to know? No. I know they don’t, I’ve been down this road before. I can’t possibly burden them with the truth anymore. They’ll start to cry, or worse, they’ll know how crazy I am. No, I can’t possibly tell them. So by default I always settle this internal conflict by answering, “I’m ok, you?”

I’m not bringing this up because I wish “How are you?” was really an invitation for me to pour my heart out to anyone who greets me this way. Honestly, it would probably be uncomfortable for both of us and a waste of time. Not everyone wants or needs to know exactly how I am all the time, even if they ask. What I’ve realized, however, is that in a world where asking “How are you?” is nothing more than a formality, it’s important to have a few friends who’s “How are yous” aren’t just the precursor to a conversation, they ARE the conversation.

Although this blog has been a space for me to share things that I wouldn’t necessarily admit out loud, it isn’t a substitute for the support gained through human interaction. The most helpful thing for me has been finding people who won’t be scared by my responses to “How are you?” Friends and family who can be the sounding board for my darkest thoughts and deepest fears and still look at me the same way afterward. People who understand that sometimes how I am is all I need to talk about until I’ve gotten to the very bottom of these feelings and released them completely. These are the people who ask "How are you?" and actually mean it.

As long as I have those few, invaluable people in my life, answering "I'm ok, you?" to everyone else isn't a lie.

Happy Birthday, My Love

As I woke up this morning I couldn't help but think about how different this day would have been. Instead of visiting Blake's grave, I would've planned a birthday party with him. This day would have reminded me of how lucky I was to be dating Blake instead of just highlighting his absence and the hole it's left in my heart.

Blake's mom, grandmother, and I made our first visit of the day early in the morning. As we pulled up to his plot, a flood of memories from his funeral rushed through my brain. I remember it vividly as if it happened three and a half days ago, not three and a half months. I thought about the huge school bus of his friends, the embrace of his family, and the rose I was given to leave over his heart. What a draining and unforgettable day. 

When we got to his grave, one of Blake's best friends was already there visiting him. Before he left, he helped us dig a trench around Blake's headstone so that I could sprinkle his gift in it. I brought him sand, shells, and sea glass. Blake loved the beach, especially the beaches of San Diego. We always planned that I would move there for graduate school and then he would move there to meet me as soon as he could. San Diego was always our dream so I've struggled with the unfairness of how I am able to live it and he can't. These gifts became my way of bringing the beach to him and letting him be a part of that life.

After talking with Blake's mom about the beautiful symbolism of the gift, we decided that I should bring bits of the beach from down my street to give him every time I come to visit. This would remind both of us that I have the privilege and honor of living our dream for both him and me. 

Blake's mom and grandmother left me for a while so that I could have time alone with Blake and they could go visit his grandfather. I laid a towel down and sat staring at his picture. I felt the over 100 degree heat, the slight and oh-so-necessary breeze, and a great deal of "so now what?"

I heard Blake's voice in my head urging me to say something, anything! "Hello, it's my birthday why aren't you telling me how much you love me and how great I am?" But I couldn't. I just sat there, frozen, wondering why this was so awkward for me. I looked at the trees, the sky, the other headstones next to his. Who were his neighbors? Were they nice? Is he friends with them? His voice again, "Hello! Focus on ME!" 

I looked down at the sand, shells, and blue glass I gave to him. I sat there blankly staring at it for what seemed like hours. Then suddenly, one of the dark blue pieces caught my eye. I picked it up and noticed that it was almost heart shaped. I rubbed it between my fingers and started to close my eyes. I squeezed it tightly in the palm of my hand and brought it up to my heart. 

I'm not even sure what I said to Blake in my mind, but I instantly knew it was the right thing to say. I felt calm and at peace as I took a second look at the glass. It was a weird kind of heart shape that reminded me of the chubby, circular heart on his headstone. I decided to rest the glass on top of it to see how it matched up. It was the perfect size. 

When Blake's mom and grandmother came back I told them about the heart shaped glass. His mom immediately said that I needed to find some super glue so the blue heart could become a permanent part of his headstone. At that moment, hearing her say that filled my heart so completely with love that I felt like I could burst. What an honor. I have always felt accepted by his family, but this was on another level. Here was this gorgeous, expensive headstone and she thought enough of me to encourage me to stick a random piece of glass on it. I don't think I can ever express how much that gesture meant to me. 

I went back two more times today, once with three more of Blake's best friends and again with his whole family. Neither time was about seeing and talking to Blake again, but rather to be around the people who loved him. The love they were emitting made me feel good. Experiencing their love for him made me feel like everything was going to be ok, we would get through this together.

Tonight ended with a family dinner at Blake's sister's house. The people were perfect, the food was delicious, but I was silently a mess. I looked at these wonderful people and thought, with complete amazement, about the lengths they went to to make me feel included and cared for. These strangers had become my family and it was all because of Blake. But the most essential link to our relationship wasn't with us tonight. He was supposed to be sitting right next to me squeezing my hand excitedly because his family and I got along so well. The way I fit in seamlessly almost made me feel worse. To have developed such a strong bond with them that he would never witness was a reality too sad to believe.

Blake's birthday was hard, but we got through it. I felt such a range of emotions throughout the day, but the one constant was the love I felt from his friends and family. Never once did I feel alone on a day that could've otherwise emphasized my loneliness.  I realize more and more every day how truly lucky I am to love and be loved by so many wonderful people. And it's days like today that make me feel even more blessed to have the new friends and family Blake brought into my life. Although this love will never replace Blake's, it helps sooth that hole in my heart.

Preoccupation with Death

I’m so hyper aware of mortality now that I scare myself sometimes.

When I see pictures of people I know with their friends, their families, their boyfriends, I imagine what would happen if they died. I wonder how their lives would change. I wonder how they would cope.

I think about how happy they look. They’re smiling so big, hugging so tightly, laughing so hard. I think about these moments that they’ve captured and imagine them turning into precious memories. I envision those pictures becoming the ones they weep over, show people, put in a frames next to their beds. 

Do they ever think about the fact that their loved ones might not always be there? That the pictures they shared could potentially be their last?

No, probably not.

They’re very lucky then. What a luxury it would be to not have to think about death.

I really miss the days when I viewed death as an abstract concept. Something that only concerned the elderly, the ones who had lived complete lives. It didn’t make their passing any less upsetting, but there was some comfort in knowing that their “time had come.” Death was just a final stage at the end of a full life. Unfortunately, I don't think about death like that anymore. 

It's scary to know that at any moment something could happen and a person you relied on, loved, adored, looked up to, took for granted, could no longer be there. And that's it. All you're left with is the pictures you took and the memories you shared. No chance to right wrongs or say the things left unsaid. 

I guess in a strange, twisted way it's not necessarily a terrible thing to be aware of mortality. Death is, in fact, the only certainty in life. Although there is a fine line between awareness and obsession, I think an understanding of the fragility of life is healthy.

When I see pictures of me with my friends, my family, my boyfriend, I imagine what would happen if they died. I wonder how my life would change. I wonder how I would cope.

I think about how happy we look. We’re smiling so big, hugging so tightly, laughing so hard. I think about these moments that we've captured in a picture and imagine them turning into precious memories. I envision that picture becoming the one I weep over, show people, put in a frame next to my bed. 

Do I ever think about the fact that my loved ones might not always be there? That the picture we shared could potentially be our last?

Yes, now I do.

I think I'm very lucky in a way. It's a luxury to reflect on the wonderful people in my life, why I appreciate them as people, how truly important they are to me. 

I wish my mind didn't preoccupy itself with thoughts of death, but it does. It's scary, but I'm learning to push myself to see the positives in it. Maybe I will think twice about holding grudges, be more willing to say I'm sorry, forgive, give compliments, give myself completely and whole heartedly to those I love. If I'm aware of mortality, I am aware that nothing lasts forever. What's important is not to wish for that to change, but to appreciate what you have while you still have it. 

How Losing Blake Feels

"I can't even imagine how hard this has been for you."

I want you to imagine being naked. Not physically, but emotionally. Any of the walls you've built up to protect yourself from judgement, to make you look cool, or fun, or pretty- gone. You've gotten to a point with someone where you don't need to make excuses about why you are the way you are. As annoying as you may be, you're not only accepted, but cherished. You really have no idea how a person could possibly see all of your flaws and still like you, let alone love you, but somehow he does.

Now imagine how hard it must have been to get to that point. These walls you've built up are referred to as walls for a reason. They aren't gates that can be swung open or even doors that can be unlocked if you have the right key. They are walls. Tall, sturdy, unyielding. It doesn't matter how they were built, but they are there now. As much as they frustrate you, you need them. You've grown attached to them in a way that is unhealthy, but comforting.

Imagine the freedom that comes with having these walls knocked down. Not only knocked down, but they vanished completely. You feel like you can't even remember a time when these walls even existed because they are such a distant memory. There you are, standing there, completely and unapologetically naked in front of someone. How does it feel? What would you do? You feel like you can say anything, do anything, be anything. Anything and everything is possible because of that person and how he makes you feel.

Now imagine that being taken away from you without warning and without any chance of getting it back.

That's how it feels losing Blake. 

And I say "feels" not "felt" because I have to wake up every day and realize all over again that he's gone.

_________________________________

Why do I share my deepest thoughts, fears, questions, and emotions so publicly now?
Maybe I don't want to give up the feeling Blake showed me of being completely naked.
I don't want my walls back.
I don't want to part with the idea that anything and everything is possible.

Perhaps if I love the whole world like I love Blake, with no fear, no reservations, no walls, and complete nakedness, maybe it'll see all of my flaws and not only like me, but love me too.

I Forgive You

I'm tempted to say that today has been a regression of some sort, but I need to give myself more credit than that. After days when I put in a lot of effort to be out, smiling, and around people (like I did yesterday) sometimes I need to take the next day to lay in bed, reminisce, and cry. Although it feels a bit like a step backwards to do this, I actually think it is both necessary and positive. I need to be true to how I feel and cut myself some slack when I need a break from the world.

Today I decided to go through all of our old text messages. I remember the days of flip phones when I could only keep 100 messages at a time and had to constantly go through and delete old ones to make room for incoming messages. This is definitely not the case now. My texts messages with Blake go back all the way to the beginning of February (when I got my new phone after dropping the last one in the toilet... whoops). It took me hours to read through all of them.

I screen shotted several messages that made my heart really hurt. Blake was so incredibly romantic and said the sweetest things to me. Whenever he would send me a huge paragraph telling me how much he loved and appreciated me, I would always thank him, say something cute back, and then go about my day. I know at the time I was definitely touched by them, but now more than ever I am realizing how good he was to me.

But I don't actually want to write about those messages right now.

Blake and I argued over little things from time to time, but we only got in two big fights throughout the course of our relationship. In hindsight, I have figured out that during both of those fights Blake had been using drugs without me knowing. (I'm not blaming the fights on him or on the drugs, because I definitely had a part in them, I'm just saying the drugs definitely had a hand in escalating them)

I remember in both of those instances I was so incredibly confused by how irrational he was acting. Usually Blake was a great communicator and could tell me exactly what was bothering him, why, and how he wanted us to fix it. In both of our big fights, I felt like I didn't even know him. He said things that didn't make sense, got really angry, and jumped to crazy conclusions. It was exhausting. At some point in both of those fights, Blake finally seemed to "snap out of it" and then realized immediately that he was being ridiculous, apologized, and said all of the right things to make me feel better about what had just happened.

I came across a text he sent me after one of those two fights.

"I don't deserve you, Briana. I'm sorry. You are right. I'm so sorry. You may not forgive me now... or ever, but I'm sorry for everything. Truly. There is so much more to this than you know. So much more than apologies that is due to you."

Haunting.

Was this his first attempt at admitting to me he had a problem? Was he trying to let me know that he was aware that things were out of control for him?

After rereading that message I have two thoughts:
1. You did deserve me.
2. I forgive you.

One of the things the medium said the other night is that Blake kept saying he didn't deserve me. That he felt that I was on a much higher level than him and he wasn't able to reach it. I interpreted this as he was too sick to ever function as the person I really deserved to have in my life.

But what I want Blake to know is that I know in my heart he was at that same high level as me. The real Blake (in his pure form) was a brilliant, inspiring, generous, and truly beautiful person. I felt very lucky to be with a person like that. Who he was deep down was perfect. For him to say he didn't deserve me hurts because I know how good of a person he was. Just like he never let me doubt myself or belittle my talents, I will not allow him to say he is undeserving.

And most importantly, I want him to know I forgive him. I know he wasn't functioning as the best version of himself. I know he probably beat himself up often about wanting to be better for me or provide more for me. But he couldn't. He was so sick. I know he would've given the world to me if he could, but he couldn't. He had a horrible addiction that consumed him.

I forgive him for that.