A Lifeline....

Sometimes I never know what to say on here. No, I take that back. Sometimes I never know how much to say on here. I find I write something, and then I don’t post it because when I re-read it, it sounds somewhat pathetic and extremely depressing. There are quite a few entries I’ve written and never posted, but they still are there in cyber limbo. I went back this morning and read a few of them, and the raw emotion I was feeling then kind of took me by surprise. Yikes. I have trouble showing weakness. And to me, those posts when I was at my lowest showed me at my most vulnerable. And in typical Melissa fashion, I hid those away and put on a happy face. I think people are onto me. I’m not fooling anyone. Why do I even try? After Emily’s party on Saturday, Brandon had a campfire at his house and invited a group of people. At one point, Ashley disappeared. After awhile Diana went looking for her. When she didn’t come back, I went looking for the both of them. And found them sitting by the fence crying. And as I sat down next to Diana, before I knew it, she was sobbing. And then Ashley was on the other side and the three of us were a mess. I’ve never heard such heart-breaking sounds in my life. And I cried, but I still didn’t let myself completely go. And I don't know why...

I find myself feeling… not worse for Emily’s friends than I do myself, but feeling for them differently. Your friends don’t die at 20. It’s just not the way it’s supposed to be. I was thinking the other day, and I’ve thought this before, that while I miss Emily more than I could ever convey in my feeble words… it’s different. I think about Lauren and Debbie, and I don’t know what I would do if I lost either of my best friends. But while Emily wasn’t my best friend, she’s my sister. She’s the other half of me. She was my childhood, and was supposed to be my adulthood. She’s intertwined through my life story in a way that no one else except a sister could ever be. I’ve lost a connection to my past, and I’ve lost a part of my future. It’s like my life is a tapestry, and Emily was a particular thread that went missing halfway through. The completed tapestry will still be beautiful (hopefully!), but when you look up close, you will be able to see where the thread stopped.

This blog has been a lifeline for me. When I started this, I had no clear idea where it would go. I guess in the back of my mind, I was thinking it would be more… funny stories and memories of Emily. Seems like it’s been more about me. (haha, Emily would HATE that!!!) Funny how things never turn out the way we expect. Even in something as silly as this. But when I go back and read those unposted entries, it struck me that the majority of them aren’t from the beginning… but are from within the last month. Maybe I’ve been afraid to share those personal thoughts because I should be “moving on” by now? That I’m afraid of coming across as depressed as everyone else gets back to “normal?” Or just that I’ve been feeling this all along and have just refused to let those emotions go. That’s probably closest to the truth.

Over the last few months, so many people have commented on how “well” I write. (insert typical Melissa eye-roll, and shoulder shrug.) I don’t handle compliments well. I guess I wasn’t expecting that reaction at all. I wasn’t writing because of any kind of talent, but because I needed something to keep myself from exploding. So what on earth possessed me to start a public blog and send it to my family? I guess because I wasn’t really expecting it to turn into a personal journal of sorts. I’ve been writing forever- journals and short stories, and most recently, poetry. That I’ve never really shared with anyone before. For a lot of reasons- lack of self-confidence, a fear of letting people get too close, etc. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what I want to do with the rest of my life. And the answer that still is there is the same one that’s been there since I was 10 years old. I want to write. So what the hell is keeping me from it? Again… lack of self-confidence, fear of letting people get too close, fear of failure, rejection… etc. I’ve said this so often over the last few months, and I’ll say it again. Life. Is. Too. Short.

Someone suggested someday compiling this blog into a book of sorts. Along the lines of “Tuesdays with Morrie”- that kind of thing. And it just makes me laugh that my writing, which was something so intensely personal for so many years, was “discovered” for lack of a better word, because of Emily. I shake my head. Everything was always about her. But I guess this time I owe her one. She’s helped me discover myself. I’ve discovered more of who I am, and why I am the way I am. She’s always been the voice in my ear, encouraging me when I needed it, and putting me back in my place when I needed it. For awhile I thought I’d lost her. I’m starting to hear her again.
I can’t quite bring myself to go back and post those entries. Maybe I will sometime soon. Or maybe you’ll just have to wait for the book. . I guess I don’t have to tell you who it’s going to be dedicated to.