This is What I Choose Every Single Day

The space between me and my dear reader. You are reading this blog probably because you love me to some degree or you're curious about what I have been up to. Well, welcome. 

The word space is physical and abstract. It's concrete but also figurative. It is just there. A healthy space. The space between the wall and the bed. May I take up space? This thought is taking up space in my mind. There isn't enough space in my car to take this in one trip. The space between us is unsettling. I feel like you aren't making enough space for me. Do you ever wonder if there are aliens in space?

When I was 16 (2007) and my Mom passed I was riding this thin line of life and just a shell of a human. I entered dangerous areas that I couldn't for the life of me feel stable. This persisted for years. It took massive amounts of space in my life. 

Around 2018 something happened. It woke me up. My girlfriend's (of 3 months) dad died unexpectedly. It shattered me in ways that now in hindsight make complete sense. I started to go to therapy. Luckily, for me, my therapist and I clicked right away. I can honestly say it changed me.

I am coming up on the 1 year anniversary of Britton's death. Words I never thought I would utter. I have gone through a lot of dead parent anniversaries. Losing Britt is different. I can feel the weight of it but I choose to carry it instead of putting me in a space that will not let me go. 

Death. No one really wants to talk about it until they have to. I'm not uncomfortable to talk about death but some people who haven't experienced losing someone close, makes for an interesting conversation or lack there of. Disease and death have been very prevalent in my life since I was 4. I'm a feeler that is for sure. It's been a common conversation in my life.  

There is a space between you and me. I can write all day long about my life but we aren't having a conversation. You get to read this and pretend to hear my voice saying all of this. I wish it was easier to break that wall between you and me. What do they call it? The third wall?  

We have thoughts and we sometimes share those thoughts or decide to share some and not all. Have you ever heard someone say, "Oh, you don't want to be in my head." "Oh, haha you do not want to hear all my thoughts!" "I think I need to keep my thoughts to myself." 

Want to get inside my head a little? I suppose you are reading this because you already want to. 

Every single day I think of Britton. I remind myself that he died. That he died alone. His last two years of life were painful and destructive. He left people nasty voicemails. Britt only sent me one text that was hurtful. I called him out and he stopped replying for a while. There is this narrative of him in his last two years of life and it isn't pretty. Though that should never describe who he was for 33 years of his precious life. Addiction is a painful road.

I continue to see the little boy that I would play at the beach with. We would fight, laugh, and love each other. This thought comes to my mind every single damn day. Every single day I remind myself he died and every day I remind myself of who he was. Then I carry on with my day. 

That thought is what separates me from being fully connected constantly. It burrows deep in my mind.

Spring is coming. The regrowth is coming. Seeds being planted. I decided after the news had settled a little in my mind that Britton was gone, I wasn't going to lose myself. Instead, I was going to carry Britton with me and take him on all the adventures. See things he would of loved to see. Experience a world that isn't so dark and sad. Experience a life that isn't weighed down by intense heartache. 

There is space for that reality. In my little life there is so much room for that. This is what I choose every single day even if there are some tears mixed in here and there. The beauty of life also creates space for death and regrowth happens over and over again without failure. Joy and saddness are nothing without each other.