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

Vows to Blake (A Letter)

This morning I woke up from a dream that I can't remember. As my dream was becoming lucid, I can recall telling myself that I needed to write my vows to Blake. Wedding vows? Was this my mind playing a cruel joke on me? Clearly I am never going to marry Blake, so why would I need to write him vows?

I told this to one of my friends, and she had a different interpretation. She suggested:

I thought this was a positive way to see the dream and a great idea. My mom has always pushed me to look for lessons in every life experience. I have been meaning to write down all of the things being in love with Blake has taught me, so I thought this could be my perfect opportunity to do so:

To My Love Blake,
I vow to honor you and your memory for the rest of my life. This doesn't mean saving myself for you, or making my life about you, but rather to embody all of the principles you stood for and strive to grow in the way you were helping me grow.

The most important thing I can do is to work every day to suspend judgement. You always taught me to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. In your life, you were a true friend to everyone, regardless of whether it was outwardly aparent what you could "gain" from their friendship. I watched in awe as you developed rapport with the children at the hotel pool, the old couple next to us at dinner, our taxi driver, my students, the merchants for your company, and so on. You were fascinated by people and knew that everyone had a unique and important story. Your curiosity made you a magnet. Just as I was so attracted to you, the world was pulled in by your openness and genuine interest.

But this suspension of judgement goes further than just the first impression of a person. Sometimes after you get to know someone, they disappoint you.There are times when people do and say things that cut you deeply and make you question whether they have anything good to contribute to your life or society in general. This is when you taught me to be even more forgiving. You taught me that it is ok to argue, fine to disagree. But at the end of the day what really mattered is that you didn't let these conflicts color what you thought of that person. You had an amazing ability to relase the people from your life who weren't adding any goodness, but never think of them as bad people. And for the people you loved, you were always willing to accept an apology and move forward, knowing that some people are too important to lose.

I took from you these lessons of suspending judgement of others, but the most vital lesson you were teaching me was to stop the harsh judgment of myself. This is a lesson I am still working on. I vow to remember every day that I am not perfect, but I'm perfectly flawed. My flaws are there as obstacles to remind me to never stop learning, to never be complacent about how I look at the world and myself. I will make mistakes. I will say and do the wrong things. But that's ok. I need to be patient and kind with myself. I will strive to always look critically at my choices and judgments, apologize often and sincerely, and know that I am still a good person, despite the mistakes I make. The important thing isn't to be perfect, but to be perfectly myself.

I vow to honor you and cherish you for the rest of my life. I vow to keep an open mind and an open heart, both of which hold no maximum capacity. I vow to apologize and forgive frequently and genuinely, knowing that is the recipe for enduring and healthy relationships with the people I love. I vow to release people from my life who no longer benefit me, but never let that give me permission to think ill of their character. I vow to continue to be the girl you fell in love with and grow to love myself just as much.

Forever and always,
Briana

Share in my Happiness (A Letter)

Bear,

I did it! I’m all moved into my new apartment in San Diego. When you look down my street you can see the ocean! It’s everything we dreamt about and more. There is a new sense of calm in my life that makes me feel like I am exactly where I need to be.

Every step of the move, I envisioned you with me. Talking for hours with my mom and me as we drove down, helping my dad carry up and rebuild all of my furniture (while my mom and I tried to be useful), and laying with me in bed after it was all done, discussing excitedly about this new adventure for us.

For us.

It’s jarring each time I have to realize that it’s just me, not us. You would think I’d understand that already, but it’s still a shot to the heart every single time. As much as I try to cling on to the idea that we’re doing this together, I know it’s just me now.

I wish I felt ok about that, but I don’t. Not at all. It’s not like I believe you’re going to miraculously come back, but wouldn’t that be nice? We could live in this perfect city and start fresh together. I realize that will never happen, but I can’t stop thinking about it regardless of the facts.

Tonight, I am asking you to be with me. Find a way to somehow help me feel your presence in all of these happy moments so I can share them with you. We both wanted this so badly. And because of that, I feel strangely selfish having this experience on my own. I know you think I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do. So please, find a way to share this happiness with me.

I love you to Planet Z (and back),

Bunny

Are You There, Blake? (A Letter)

This is the last thing I am going to post retroactively. I thought it was important because it reminds me of my struggle to feel some sense of contact with Blake. I was (and still am) adjusting to the fact that the one person I shared absolutely everything with at all times of the day (whether it was in person, on the phone, or by text) is no longer there. Or is he? It is such a hard adjustment to know my best friend and love can't be there to comfort me, laugh with me, cry with me, and grow with me. Or maybe he can? See the dilemma... it's so weird.

I wrote this on his Facebook when I woke up in the middle of the night and started thinking about this: