CHRYSALIS

42.

TW: death, suicide, grief.

July 30th, 2021

I don't remember much of that week. I remember a lot of shame, a lot of embarrassment and apologizing for my behavior, but not a lot of the emotions that I was feeling. I think I was feeling too many at once.

Looking back on it now it makes me more grateful for my friends than I'd ever been. All of them. They all did their part and gave me what I needed. Thinking about this time makes me realize that for so long I thought I was kind of alone, when really I had incredible friends supporting me at all times.

I'd always thought I'd handle things alone, the hard things at least, but they proved me wrong.

I don't know what I did to deserve them, I don't know how I got so lucky, but everyday I'm thankful to be loved by them.

I wouldn't have made it here without them.

Jo.

That first week was really hard.

I had stopped answering my phone completely, I didn't even know where it was most of the time.

Miranda was practically living with us, trying to help my dad out while I was useless. She fed us and kept the house clean, she dealt with my phone most of the time.

I spent every day at the cemetery.

My mom wasn't even there yet, her service wasn't until the third week of June. I just spent my days on Gramps grave. He was the only one who didn't talk to me.

Couldn't talk to me.

Because he's dead, just like her.

So I would pack a bag with a blanket, a book, a water bottle, and some goldfish, and I would lay in the trimmed grass for hours and hours on end. No one bothered me out here, no one talked to me. No one asked if I was okay.

I wasn't the one that wanted to fucking die, why are they asking me if I'm okay?

Marcus showed up. I guess he went to my dad's and when I wasn't there, he found me at the cemetery. He sat with me for a bit, but he wouldn't shut up.

"Are you doing okay?"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Had you talked to her recently?"

"Do you know how she did it?"

That one was the last straw.

"Jesus Christ, Marcus! Yes, I know how she did it, would you like me to draw it out for you? You want a fucking reenactment!? Leave me the fuck alone, do you think I'm hanging out in a cemetery because I want company!?"

"Okay, I'll leave you, I'm sorry. Uh, just call if there's anything I can do."

With that, he finally left me in peace.

I felt the breeze tickle the hairs on the back of my neck. I rolled my eyes and talked to Gramps like he could hear me, "Oh, he's a big boy, he'll get over it."

The only time I wasn't at the cemetery was when we made funeral arrangements. It was going to be a small ceremony, probably just graveside. She didn't have many friends, to begin with, and even fewer after countless outbursts. People tended to distance themselves from her.

Me included.

I distanced myself so far from her, and it wasn't even her fault. What was wrong with me? She was ill. She had an illness and I just abandoned her.