A Long Time Ago

December, 2008 - I walked into the garage on a Sunday morning, my parents were just leaving for Church. My mom saw the look on my face and asked me if everything was okay. She knew nothing was okay.

A tear fell down my face and I ran inside and sprinted up to my room, planting my face in my pillow and sobbing, just sobbing until nothing but these strange alien noises could come out of me. I screamed at the top of my lungs for God to kill me because I just couldn’t take it anymore and I didn’t have the guts to do it myself.

The night before, I left Zachary at his new apartment, helped him take some stuff in. He knew I was feeling shitty and asked if I wanted to stay the night, despite having slept the whole day and not having a chance in hell of falling asleep. He said it would be good for me, and that it would be good for him.

I stayed. I stayed and lay there with his body wrapped up in my arms, holding him as close as I ever could because I never wanted to let go, ever. Some part of me thought I found perfection there in my arms, some part of me knew my heart was breaking into far too many pieces to count.

Somehow I fell asleep and woke up and headed back home to my parent’s house on Sunday.

***In the midst of this a friend asked me, as a form of comfort, "will any of this matter in a year?"

It matters.