Into the sunset. Dillingham '11.

Monday, September 3, 2012

Reaching out.

I'm feeling pretty emotional and philosophical right now, for some reason. It seems that whenever I workout, my feelings about everything are launched into some sort of romantic daze. So bear in mind that I'm writing this post-workout and in my "enhanced" (yeah right) state.

Yesterday morning, while I was stumbling through Facebook and its many nooks and crannies, I came across some horrible news. My buddy Brandon's brother, Cody, was killed yesterday in a hunting accident. I'm not sure what happened exactly, all I know is that it was a sudden and tragic thing. My first thought after I found out is that I had to reach out to Brandon. I sent him a text telling him that I knew what he was feeling and that if he needed anyone to talk to, I was there. He texted me back shortly and seemed very grateful. Brandon and I actually bonded several years ago over the fact that we both lost a parent. When he was younger, his father dropped dead in front of him of some sort of brain/heart failure. Not sure exactly, but after my mom was killed he reached out and made this known to me and also made it known that he was always there to talk. Brandon was by no means the first person to reach out to me like this, but he was one of the first people I truly connected with because I knew that he had already experienced it.

Losing people is the hardest fucking thing imaginable. On any level. Be it losing touch with a good friend or losing a family member in an accident, it is never easy. That person will always have a little bit of your heart, so to say. It sounds cliché and stupid, but I truly believe that.

I started out writing this with a basic outline of what I wanted to say and how I wanted to present it, but it's turned into more of a random free-write. I'm tired, hungover from Frosh week, and a bad writer. 

Something that I've been dealing with lately is telling people about my mother's death. Being in a new environment obviously means you're going to meet more people, and everyone is interested in your life. I feel sort of awkward telling people about her being dead, but not because I don't want people knowing or anything, just cause every time I do, they get uncomfortable and feel like an ass for putting me in a situation where I had to think about it. I have come to peace with it. Fuck. I WANT  to talk about it, her, and anything to do with her. It has been five years, and yes it will always be a hard thing to talk about, but I'd rather talk about her and think about her than have her memory be a giant elephant in the room. So if you are reading this, please take me seriously; ask me about it if you are comfortable, talk to me about it if you can. It means a lot. I don't feel like you really know me unless you know about that. It is such a huge part of my life that it is to be taken seriously and not ignored.

To wrap this up, I want to say that I am loving life. I wake up every day feeling positive, excited to meet new people, learn more things, and try to be a little better. There are obviously still ups and downs in my life, but I feel like the luckiest person alive. McGill seems to be an amazing fit for me, although I'll comment on that again once I'm taking classes. For being such a huge school, they do a good job of making you seem unique and making it feel small most of the time. Montreal is absolutely beautiful, and campus is really nice. More than anything, the people are what makes it great. Everyone is so smart, open-minded, and kind.

1 comment:

  1. You are a wonderful, open, expressive writer. Missing you terribly here.