But our relationship was a constant challenge. Her father was military strict when they were growing up and though her parents had divorced and he'd moved out by the time we met, living in that environment for so long had taken its toll. She desperately wanted a normal father/daughter relationship with that man, somehow she still adored him, but he was completely uninterested. I didn't think her issues with him should have anything to do with us but now I realize that they had major impact on our relationship. There was not a dude in her life she'd ever had a stable, mutual respect type relationship with. Every man in her life had let her down so naturally she expected me to do the same. He passed away when she was 17 and that sent her into all kinds of turmoil. She started drinking and when she drank she became this other person that I didn't like at all. We battled it out and tried to settle in as a couple but it became more difficult when we both went off to college. There was never enough time for one another and we were never just fine. There was always drama and especially because she wouldn't (or couldn't) deal with her father and his life and death. When it started to threaten our friendship when we were 19, we ended our romantic relationship. I still adored her, I knew that someday we'd be back together and it would work when we were both ready for forever.
We started seeing other people and still hung out as friends after getting over the initial split. She was my greatest collaborator and my harshest critic. I loved that. She started counseling and stopped drinking and dealt with her dad issues and family issues. Her progress was amazing, I was so proud of her and I told her as much. After almost two years apart, and now in our early 20's, she asked for my help on a project and we got to goofing around one day during work and something just clicked. Neither of us said anything or did anything. We were just ready to try again and we both knew it. Even though we were both now single, we didn't start dating right away. We gave it time and space to know it was right. But once we were back on, it was amazing. I felt the most insane electrical current run through me when she was around, from the very first time we met. I wanted to marry her, I wanted to have a family with her and I wanted the 'happily ever after' people talk about. We weren't that much older but it was such a liberating kind of love. We were a couple and we were in love but we weren't really tied down. There was an understanding that we'd be together until the end but we didn't feel suffocated by it. She was my best friend and there was never anyone I loved spending time with more than her. There was no drama, few fights and total acceptance.
We were just settling in when she went on a trip with her cousins to check out colleges (for the younger ones). I had to work so I couldn't go and we were kinda bummed about having to spend our birthdays apart. The day before she left we went to lunch and talked about going away when she came back to celebrate our birthdays, we were both turning 21 the same week. We kissed goodbye and she left. I didn't know that'd be the last time I ever saw her.
Four days into her trip she was killed in a car accident. I don't remember anything about the first time I heard the news. My mom says it went like this; two days after my birthday, she got the call and I saw her in distress as I was walking down the stairs and she told me what had happened (after she told me to sit down, which I refused to do). She says for the next few days I went into denial. That I didn't wanna believe it and I couldn't accept it. I spent the next four days in my room alone. She doesn't know how I spent my time and I couldn't tell you for sure either. Some of my friends and family decided to get me out of the house and wanted me to meet them at a friends house so we could all go to a movie. I wandered downstairs and got into the car and started driving. That's the last thing I remember until I woke up in the hospital two weeks later. I'd been hit head-on by a drunk driver on a fairly deserted road and, if not for a group of cars having gotten lost, I'd be dead. The drunk driver was just a teenager and was killed instantly.
The worst part about the accident, for me, wasn't the physical pain or the surgeries that followed. It was having to be told all over again that she was gone. She was the first person I asked for when I woke up and I'm sure telling me that news again was one of the hardest things my mom has ever had to do in her life. I spent two months in the hospital being repaired physically and questioned psychologically. The million dollar question being whether or not I'd wrecked the car on purpose and the guy I hit just happened to be drunk. In the end the police determined that he'd been the one in the wrong lane and I wasn't at fault. I really didn't care whether anyone thought I'd tried to kill myself or not. I still couldn't believe what I'd lost. And I couldn't understand why I'd been the one to get out alive and not her. I didn't understand why she had to go at all. Once I was released from the hospital I needed round the clock care from friends and family for the next four months. It was a fog for me. I actually looked forward to the surgeries because I knew I'd be put under and I wouldn't have to think or hurt for those hours. I hated the physical therapy and I refused the counseling even though I'd been diagnosed with depression and I knew of my survivor's guilt. It was suffocating to think about any of that so I tried not to. I wrote a lot, all of it thoroughly depressing. They say a near death experience is supposed to shock you back into life and make you thankful for what you have and for a second chance. I didn't see it as a good thing at the time. I did die, twice in fact (once when brought into the ER for about 3 minutes and again during a surgery for 4 minutes), which should've made me thankful on a whole other level but it didn't.
My health was still very shaky when I went back to work late that year. I threw myself into work, I didn't talk about what a horrible year I'd had. I started dating, if you can call it that, to try and kill the pain. I started drinking more than I should've, staying out later than I needed to and I took to refilling my prescriptions long after they had expired. My family expressed their concern, although I hid the worst of my habits from them, and I ignored it. I started looking for some sort of connection, I needed something like I'd had to try and hold onto. Of course, those kinds of relationships are rare so I never found what I was looking for. I'd missed the funeral since I'd been in a coma when it was held and I didn't go to the grave site.
Three years after her death I was still going through the grieving process. Still doing everything I shouldn't but I toned it down some so that my family would get off my back and I could function. I started dating someone I'd known for a very long time and I was desperate for some kind of connection. Three months in she said she wanted to marry me and a few months after that I proposed. I was happy and I'd curbed every bad habit I'd been indulging in. My family was thrilled about my habits being curbed and I was looking forward to a New Years Eve wedding. But that didn't pan out because she had someone else on the side and once his divorce was final, she ended it with me and went to be with him. And I fell back into my old habits at an alarmingly fast rate. I threw myself into the night life and everything that came with it. I spent most of my free time alone. And I read a lot about anything that would take my mind off of my problems. I read a lot about religion, I mean all of 'em. I looked for answers and reasons and I didn't find anything. I got so sick of hearing things about god's will and everything happening for a reason. We weren't exactly on good terms. I spiraled for a long time.
I finally decided I needed to get help and I sought out an acquaintance who is an addiction specialist, amongst other things so I could get my act together. I stopped drinking on my own and then we started our sessions and almost immediately I started to feel the weight coming off of me. So much of what I was feeling was guilt. I felt like I should've been there, I could've done something to change the outcome. Or I shouldn't have broken it off after her dad died and we would've had more time together. But I know now that I couldn't have changed anything. It happened the way it was meant to, as devastating as it is for me to say that. I started getting assignments from him that would make me go over my relationships with women and what I'd done wrong or right. It was a long, slow process but it worked...for the most part. I still drifted in and out of my bad habits for another few months until the death of a family member shocked me back for good. Two weeks after that I found out I was gonna be a father and knew my old ways had to be gone for good for the sake of the kid.
Even though I'm happy and settled and through the worst of it (I hope), it's still an ongoing process. I learned so, SO much from her. Though I didn't learn most of it until the past few years. I learned how to fight fair. I learned that sometimes all you can do is be there for someone and that's enough. I learned that you have to always say how you feel because the end could come at any time. Not a day went by that I didn't tell her how much I loved her. I learned how to open up and be completely vulnerable. I learned to let go of the little things cuz they don't matter. My only regret is that she had to leave for me to learn any of this. I'll always love her on some level and I'll always miss her. And the pain of everything I went through won't ever go away. I don't need to be fixed or saved or find god. I did need to feel connected to something though and thankfully I found that in my spirituality. But I learned that nothing helps and the pain never fully goes away. It just hurts less with time. And I can live with that. I can tolerate the dreams (or nightmares) I have every so often about her. Life does go on but it's never the same.
I have been told that I have tremendous faith and I'm never quite sure how to take it. Maybe people see something I don't when they say that. But I do believe everything is for a reason and that things work out for the best. You may not always understand the answer but you don't have to. Some things are meant to be that way. I'll never understand why someone I loved so much was taken from me. I doubt I'll find that again, you're lucky if it happens once. But if I do I know I'll do whatever I can to hang onto it. I think I know more than most how rare it really is. One thing's for sure though, it ain't in this relationship. And we owe it to ourselves to try and find happiness.
