To Blake, On Our Anniversary

Blake,
It's weird being in my parents house again. The first couple of times I came home after your death, I refused to step foot here. Without hesitation, I agreed to sleep in the bedroom in your parent's house where you passed away, but was too scared to even see this place, the house where we spent your last week together. But being here has finally started to feel ok. In fact, now that I think about it, this house is actually the perfect place for me to be on our anniversary...

Where I'm laying right now is where I stayed up all night texting with you for the first time. I remember thinking, why is Blake Norvell even texting me? Maybe it's because he feels bad for making me drive him home? Maybe he's just bored? As much as I played it off like I was only mildly interested in you at first, I was so excited that night. I was right here, in this bed, with butterflies in my stomach every time a new text came in.

And there's also the last week we spent here, your very last week on earth. I know it wasn't our most
adventure-filled trip, but it was actually nice playing house here with you while my parents were gone. We got groceries, watched movies, took care of my dog, floated in the pool, and most importantly, got to wake up and fall asleep with each other every day. That's still the hardest part, you know. I still haven't gotten used to reaching over and feeling nothing but empty space.

One year. We talked about our one year anniversary all the time for some reason. I don't know why it always seemed so significant, but we even had the presents picked out that we were going to buy each other for this day. Why did we do that? That's actually really weird haha. But milestones were important to you and that made them important to me too. Which is why I want to make sure that today is filled with as much love as I can cram into it.

I watched our videos for the past hour or so. Every single one. I know I gave you a hard time when you would insist on taking them, but now all I want to do is thank you. If I could go back in time and agree to them enthusiastically, I would. But then again, I have a feeling that at least part of the reason why you liked them so much was because of my playful resistance.

There is so much I want to write to you. My favorite things about birthdays, anniversaries, and celebrations in general, are always the cards. There's nothing quite like stringing together the perfect words to communicate to someone exactly how you feel. Most of the time the gift becomes insignificant in comparison if the emotion in the card is just right. For this reason, I want to write you the perfect note and send it up to heaven for you.

Blake, you mean more to me than you'll ever know. Not only did you teach me about true love during your life, but in your death, you also taught me about forgiveness, acceptance, spirituality, and having patience with myself. I never thought in a million years that something as tragic as losing you would somehow turn into a blessing. But it really has. I wish with all of my heart that you didn't die, but if you had to go, I feel unbelievably lucky that you left me with such incredible parting gifts.

I'm sorry this letter has bounced around from topic to topic in a not so cohesive way, but that really matches how my brain is working right now. I'm thinking of everything all at once, trying to soak it all in. I hope today is a happy day, even though I know sadness will permeate every minute of it. But I think that's ok. I'm learning that happiness isn't the absence of sadness, it's using your sadness properly. Every day, and especially today, I'm using my sadness to feel closer to you, to myself, and the world.

I love you, William Blake. Happy anniversary.

Love Forever,
Briana

Betrayal, Hurt, and Gratitude (A Letter)

Dear Blake,

Hi Sweetheart. I wanted to write to you because I thought a lot about the drugs today. We never had a chance to talk about it and there is so much I have to say. It was devastating to find out that the person I loved more than anyone was fighting a battle I knew nothing about. I want so desperately to know what you went through, how you felt, and what I possibly could've done to be there for you. But it's impossible now. I think that's the part of all of this that hurts the most.

So in an attempt to connect to your struggle, I wrote a poem today about OxyContin. But the truth is, it felt really phony afterward. How can I write about something I know nothing about? I often try to put myself in your shoes, think about what it felt like for you, and figure out why you did the things you did, but I'll never actually know. I wish we could've talked honestly about it. I wish you would've let me in. I would have listened. I wouldn't have judged you. 

Or maybe I would have yelled. Maybe I would have thought you were out of control and given you ultimatums. I know I would have been scared, might have looked at you differently. But I think you knew all of that. I think that's why you kept this part of yourself from me. I'd like to think I would have been there for you unconditionally, but the truth is I'm not sure I would have been strong enough. That whole world is so foreign, so scary, so unlike anything I've ever experienced. It's truly heartbreaking that you, of all people, were using drugs. Especially after all that you went through, what you overcame, and the conviction in your voice when you told me you wanted a better life for yourself. 

Part of me sees this as a betrayal. I mean, how could you look me in the eyes and tell me you were in love with me, wanted to build a life with me, protect me, care for me, when you knew you were hiding a secret that would've changed everything? Did you ever really think we could live together? Get married? Raise children? This was our future. How could you let us paint such a beautiful picture of it if you knew you were withholding vital information?

I truly do have all of those questions, but after my obsessive quest to learn about addiction, another part of me sees our situation in a completely different light. In my heart of hearts, I believe you always loved me the best you possibly could. And somehow, that meant shielding me from your struggle. I'm not saying that was the right way, or the smartest way, but it did come from a good place. Although it hurts that you kept your drug use from me, I do forgive you. I know in your clouded mind it all made sense and I trust that it was out of love. 

But a new part of me is wondering why I even believe you need my forgiveness. Is it self-centered of me to make this about me forgiving you for how your addiction has affected me? You were the one coping with the insurmountable pain, yet every day you prioritized showering me with love and affection. You always made a point of making me feel special, even while you were struggling for your life. Maybe I should be apologizing or at the very least thanking you. Hiding your addiction from me was just a selfless (but misguided) attempt to protect me so I didn't have to take on the stress that was consuming you. 

I feel a certain amount of anger for the way you broke my trust, upset and confused in wishing you would've shared your burden with me and wondering why you didn't, and deep gratitude for the way you continue to surprise me as I uncover new layers of your selflessness. It kills me to think about how badly you must have been suffering, My Love. I know I'll never fully understand what drugs do to a person, but I do know you didn't deserve to carry all of that pain, especially not alone. 

It's unfortunate that one of your most beautiful qualities, generosity, lead you to give everything you had to others, but neglect yourself. I wish you would've let me take care of you like you took care of me. You deserved to experience all the happiness that you brought me and everyone else who knew you.

I pray every night that we'll see each other again in heaven. Maybe instead of harassing you with all of my questions when I get there, I can give you the thank you that you deserve. Although to some degree I feel betrayed and my heart is still filled with incredible sadness, I couldn't be more grateful that I was loved by a man who taught me so much.

I will love you forever,
Briana

What's Haunting Me

May 1, 2013- 3:16 AM
"hey briana are you there i need to speak with you immediately"
"?????"
"Call me as soon as you get this"

I woke up at 6 AM to get ready for work and saw these messages on my phone. Why was Blake's roommate contacting me in the middle of the night? My heart started racing. I knew it had to do with Blake, or else why would he be contacting me? We had met several times at that point, but were definitely not close enough to message each other about anything besides Blake. What was wrong?

I messaged back. No response. I called. No answer. I texted.

I waited.

This went on for hours throughout the day. I tried to leave voicemails. I took every opportunity to send a quick text during breaks at work. I even sought the guidance of one of my coworkers. What should I do? Should I just ask Blake what it was or wait a while to give his roommate the opportunity to tell me before alerting Blake that he went behind his back?

I had been texting Blake throughout the afternoon, but nothing abnormal about the night before had come up in our conversation. After I had fallen asleep the previous night, he sent me a few paragraphs worth of ranting about an argument he had just gotten into, how frustrated he was, and how he didn't know what to do. After waking up that morning, I calmly explained how I could see both sides, he was going to be ok, and that things actually were working out for the better.

Around lunch time he finally responded. He didn't mention anything about the fight he was in, or my reflection on it, but instead just said: "I love you so much baby doll. I want to be able to just come home to you. I would do anything." I thought this was sweet, but not out of the ordinary. He was always good at sending me messages like that. He went on: "Baby I want to hold you and just hold you. I never want to leave you."

What I didn't know at the time was that he almost did. In the middle of the night he had overdosed for the first time. His roommate's frantic messages to me at 3:16 AM were because Blake wasn't breathing and had to be taken to the emergency room.

It wasn't until 6:30 at night that I finally caved and just asked Blake what happened. It was clear his roommate had no intentions of responding to my calls, texts, and Facebook messages, so I might as well just ask Blake why I was contacted in the middle of the night.

When I asked why his roommate messaged me at 3 AM he cooly responded "Oh, it's because I had an allergic reaction." He went on to explain that they were watching movies downstairs and his roommate accidentally gave him something that had nuts in it (he is very allergic to nuts). He said the reason his roommate probably wasn't responding to me now was because he was so embarrassed that he made a big deal out of nothing.

A big deal out of nothing?

I try my hardest never to think about this, because I know it's one of those "what ifs" that only torture you and never lead to anything positive. But every once in a while, the events of that night and the day after take over my brain and haunt me.

What if I was awake to receive those messages at 3 AM?
What if his roommate responded to me and told me what happened?
What if Blake was honest about the overdose?

Would everything be different now?
Would Blake have realized the gravity of his drug use?
Would he have gotten help and gone back to rehab?
Would it have worked this time around?
Would he be alive and healthy?
Would I still be able to see him and touch him and hold him right now?

I can't wrap this post up with a positive message about how I believe I can eventually stop thinking about all of this. But maybe that's not the point? I think this will always haunt me. How could it not? I know there is nothing anyone (or I) can do or say to make this better. It will always be horrific and there's no way around it.

But can I be at peace with it? I think so. This peace started with me not blaming myself, his roommate, or Blake. I realized pretty quickly that there would be no point in that. Pointing fingers and casting blame only leads to anger, resentment, and more pain. My heart is already heavy enough with sadness, I can't add all of those feelings to my load as well.

What happened, happened, as awful and unfair as it all seems. I will never be able to change the events of that night or the way it unfolded the day after. What I can do now is learn a lesson from it. For the rest of my life, I will ALWAYS inform the family of a person who is putting his or her life in danger, by their drug use, lack of eating, risky behavior, or otherwise. If I ever feel like I'm not close enough to the person to make that call, I will tell someone who is. If I ever feel like I'm not knowledgeable or strong enough to handle what they are going through, I will tell someone who is. It is through our silence and our inactivity that these problems quietly grow worse.

And maybe after you've told someone else, things still keep progressing in the wrong direction. That happens. But at the end of the day, what matters is that you can look inside yourself and be at peace with the fact that you did everything you could.

Hitting the Anger Stage

I think I've finally hit the anger stage.

I love Blake, but I kind of hate him right now.

Anytime I've been angry about Blake or his death before, it has only been because I was mad he never told me he was using because I would have done everything in my power to help him. That wasn't anger. What I feel now is anger.

Late last night I finally (for the first time since he died) looked up the symptoms of heroin use and the effects of abuse. Maybe I already knew these things on some level, but reading them all officially like that on a medical website was terrifying.

I always thought that since Blake never stole from me that he must have respected me too much to let his drug use directly effect me or our relationship. That's actually ridiculous that I thought that.

What about all of the times he drove me?
We could have easily crashed and gotten seriously injured or I could've died.

Did he ever share needles?
There are so many things he could have contracted...

What about when he was carrying drugs?
I could have been arrested for just being in the same car as him.

How could he continually put my life in danger like that? I know he had a disease and was sick and all of that, but what about me? What did I ever do to deserve having my life jeopardized on a daily basis without me even knowing? I feel like a complete idiot.

I went downstairs, woke my parents up, and got into bed with them. I started crying so hard it hurt.

I really hope that this anger phase passes soon because the majority of my progress depends on me being able forgive him and be at peace with what happened. After realizing all of those things he did to put my life at risk, I don't forgive him.

I am so consumed with anger right now.

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.