Five Years
I had the world in my hands 5 years ago. I was in, what I thought, a great relationship. I was starting a doctoral program in physical therapy. I was going to tell my parents about said boyfriend. I finally knew, after 2.5 years of struggling, where I was headed. I could see my future, I could touch it.
Then on May 25, 2014, my brother died. That world I was holding crumbled and fell through my hands like sand. Every future I had imagined, every dream I had was swept away. I was so lost. Most days I barely knew who I was. Other people who knew us, probably wouldn't have thought it would have such an impact. My brother and I weren't close in the standard definition. We didn't hang out with each other a lot. We didn't talk constantly. But he was my brother and I always looked up to him. He was the one person I knew I could count on, no matter what happened in my life or life in general. If ANYTHING bad happened, he was the one I'd always turn to and make sure things would be okay. So when the worst thing possible happened. I had no one to turn to. I felt like I had no one. I had no one.
When I came across tough situations in my life, my first instinct has always been to run. Run away, faraway from the problem. I eventually realized this was a stupid way of dealing with things via my brother. There's only so many times you could run. Except I had no idea how to fight. I learned mostly from my brother how to do this. His strategies, his planning tactics. Being smart and logical with my battles. Though, without my brother, I wanted to go back to my first instinct and run. I wanted to escape from this life, from this incredibly, horrible, terrible thing that was happening. I wanted to be a new person with a new life because I had no idea how to be alive without my brother.
In a way, I was forced to be a different person. Without my brother, I had to recognize that I was the only one left for my parents. I'd be the only one there for them when everyone else left. I was forced to become stronger than I had EVER been. I needed to be everything he was because we all loved him so much.
Now that is an unbelievable expectation to set for myself. I have always caught myself setting up those traps for myself. Setting way too high expectations and blaming myself for not being able to accomplish unreasonable tasks. It was very hard in the beginning. I felt like such an idiot thinking I could try and fill in his shoes. However, I took what I learned from him and applied it to myself. I shouldn't be trying to be him. I should be trying to be the best version of me.
Somehow I turned into a new person because of this. I like different things now, I have different views. I mean some stuff is still the same, but oddly enough that is what I like least about myself. Mostly due to the naivety. I used to be a dreamer through and through. I had a very romanticized view of life and relationships.
I loved my ex-boyfriend so much. I was imagining the whole kids, house, pet thing. I would secretly plan what the wedding would be like, and who we'd invite. What we'd eat. What the color scheme would be. I loved him and I loved us.
There were real problems in our relationship though and when I was feeling more lost than ever, we ended. I was devastated. He was the one thing I had been clinging onto from my old life. When that string severed, I suppose I sort of just disengaged from that life completely. I stopped talking to my old friends. I stopped doing things I used to enjoy.
I picked up new hobbies. Such as not being lazy. There needed to be one thing I could control. I needed at least ONE THING. My body. I can control my body. My image. My weight. Exercise and diet became my thing. Not committing also became my thing. I pushed aside feeling sad and hurt. I definitely cried and it definitely hurt A LOT. But I let go of the one thing that had me hinged to this old life that I had dreamed of and loved and couldn't wait to start before my brother died.
It wasn't until a few months ago around Thanksgiving, when a lot of time had passed, that I realized how much I had loved him. I cried my hardest that night because I understood what that actually meant. I cried for all of the things we will never have and the people we'll never grow up to be together. I grieved for the entire life I will never have with the person I was with him. I grieved for all the missed happiness and moments.
I am not that person anymore though. I am so different than who I used to be, and I am okay with that. But I will always miss her and him and us. I'll always remember us this way. I'll always remember us in the summers, driving down to the beach, going to fourth of July parties, shooting off fireworks, climbing up buildings, sitting on the roof. I'll always remember us as young, carefree, in college, in the summer.
Then on May 25, 2014, my brother died. That world I was holding crumbled and fell through my hands like sand. Every future I had imagined, every dream I had was swept away. I was so lost. Most days I barely knew who I was. Other people who knew us, probably wouldn't have thought it would have such an impact. My brother and I weren't close in the standard definition. We didn't hang out with each other a lot. We didn't talk constantly. But he was my brother and I always looked up to him. He was the one person I knew I could count on, no matter what happened in my life or life in general. If ANYTHING bad happened, he was the one I'd always turn to and make sure things would be okay. So when the worst thing possible happened. I had no one to turn to. I felt like I had no one. I had no one.
When I came across tough situations in my life, my first instinct has always been to run. Run away, faraway from the problem. I eventually realized this was a stupid way of dealing with things via my brother. There's only so many times you could run. Except I had no idea how to fight. I learned mostly from my brother how to do this. His strategies, his planning tactics. Being smart and logical with my battles. Though, without my brother, I wanted to go back to my first instinct and run. I wanted to escape from this life, from this incredibly, horrible, terrible thing that was happening. I wanted to be a new person with a new life because I had no idea how to be alive without my brother.
In a way, I was forced to be a different person. Without my brother, I had to recognize that I was the only one left for my parents. I'd be the only one there for them when everyone else left. I was forced to become stronger than I had EVER been. I needed to be everything he was because we all loved him so much.
Now that is an unbelievable expectation to set for myself. I have always caught myself setting up those traps for myself. Setting way too high expectations and blaming myself for not being able to accomplish unreasonable tasks. It was very hard in the beginning. I felt like such an idiot thinking I could try and fill in his shoes. However, I took what I learned from him and applied it to myself. I shouldn't be trying to be him. I should be trying to be the best version of me.
Somehow I turned into a new person because of this. I like different things now, I have different views. I mean some stuff is still the same, but oddly enough that is what I like least about myself. Mostly due to the naivety. I used to be a dreamer through and through. I had a very romanticized view of life and relationships.
I loved my ex-boyfriend so much. I was imagining the whole kids, house, pet thing. I would secretly plan what the wedding would be like, and who we'd invite. What we'd eat. What the color scheme would be. I loved him and I loved us.
There were real problems in our relationship though and when I was feeling more lost than ever, we ended. I was devastated. He was the one thing I had been clinging onto from my old life. When that string severed, I suppose I sort of just disengaged from that life completely. I stopped talking to my old friends. I stopped doing things I used to enjoy.
I picked up new hobbies. Such as not being lazy. There needed to be one thing I could control. I needed at least ONE THING. My body. I can control my body. My image. My weight. Exercise and diet became my thing. Not committing also became my thing. I pushed aside feeling sad and hurt. I definitely cried and it definitely hurt A LOT. But I let go of the one thing that had me hinged to this old life that I had dreamed of and loved and couldn't wait to start before my brother died.
It wasn't until a few months ago around Thanksgiving, when a lot of time had passed, that I realized how much I had loved him. I cried my hardest that night because I understood what that actually meant. I cried for all of the things we will never have and the people we'll never grow up to be together. I grieved for the entire life I will never have with the person I was with him. I grieved for all the missed happiness and moments.
I am not that person anymore though. I am so different than who I used to be, and I am okay with that. But I will always miss her and him and us. I'll always remember us this way. I'll always remember us in the summers, driving down to the beach, going to fourth of July parties, shooting off fireworks, climbing up buildings, sitting on the roof. I'll always remember us as young, carefree, in college, in the summer.
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