“So Facebook just informed me that one of the girls in Brandon’s group of friends just got engaged. She’s a great and sweet person, and I’m happy for her, but here I am sitting in the bathroom crying. Because it sucks to have gotten married to my best friend only for 5 weeks. It sucks that I used to be so happy to have finally joined the “married” club. It sucks that I’ve had that torn away. I should be married and I’m not. He’s not supposed to be dead. I’m not supposed to start over. Jesus. I’m having one hell of a pity party. And I can’t stop crying at work, which is just awesome. That hasn’t happened in a long time. The girl has red hair and Brandon used to always give her hell for it, always making all sorts of ginger jokes. He’d probably have some awesome jokes about her getting married but he’s dead. Damn it. He’s not supposed to be dead. My heart hurts.”
The above was written to my coworker friend yesterday afternoon while I was at work. For the first time in months I had a breakdown. I was sitting in the break room, scrolling through Facebook when I saw Brandon’s friend post pictures of her and her boyfriend on a mountain, looking happy, and announcing that they were engaged. I really was happy to see that, I’ve always liked her and she deserves to have found a good guy, which from the one time I met him, he definitely fits the bill. And they seem really good together. So yes, I was happy to see that. But as always, in this new life of mine, there’s a darker side to the coin of whatever emotion I feel. Along with feeling happy for her, I also got punched by a great wave of sadness. The sadness was so raw, so powerful. It caught me off guard. I quickly went to the bathroom, closed the stall door, and broke down into hot, powerful tears.
I’ve been weepy ever since. For a reason I don’t fully understand, seeing this engagement announcement has torn off the scab that’s slowly formed over the wound of losing Brandon. Now it’s bleeding again.
Last night I had terrible dreams about him. I don’t remember many details, as dreams sometimes go, but what I do remember is that in one of the dreams, for whatever reason, Brandon was alive. But the weird thing was, I was still with Will and somehow the three of us were living together. In this dream, I had a dream that Brandon died (a dream within a dream?). I remember feeling a great terror, and talking to Brandon about it, asking if anything was wrong or if he felt down or depressed. He just shrugged it off, told me not to worry about it. The next day I came home and found him dead, much like I did that night in real life. At that point I woke up. I’ve been in tears most of the morning.
I suppose a therapist would say that the reason that the three of us were living together is because even through Brandon is dead, he’s still a prominent part of my life. So in a way, it is Will and I…and Brandon. The three of us.
This Saturday my friend is getting married. Again, I’m very happy for him. I really am. But I can’t help feeling anxiety. Will it hurt to sit there and listen to their vows? Will it bring back memories from Brandon’s and mine wedding, something I never think about because it hurts too damn much?
I hate how his death has effected every part of me and my life.