Dreams

I had a dream about Duane last night, but it wasn't terrible like I thought it would be. Kind of put things into perspective for me. I've been beating myself up. I've been feeling better, but feeling better has given me such guilt. I should be feeling just as awful as when I found out, every day for at least a month.

In the dream, I had a time machine and went back in time to spend one more day with him. But, we acted just like we normally did. Just going to get some food at a cafe, laughing and being...how we always had been. Just hanging out, me giving him a hard time and him irritating me to death. But as he was leaving and getting into his car for what I knew would be the last time, I remembered to yell "Hey! Duane! I love you so much!" and he just looked at me confused and said, "Okay, Brandie." and got into his car.

It was then that I realized that I'd done enough in our friendship for him to know how much I loved him...I just did it in my own way. I guess I was just upset before because I felt like I should have done it the way he did, very open and outright about it. Always saying it. Emailing me all the time. But I understood then that his way isn't mine and if I had gotten the opportunity to tell him something like that before he left me, it wouldn't have been right to him. Obviously he knew that the way I show affection is minimal and if I do say something sweet, I follow it up with something very surface because I'm not good with things like that.

But the more emails I find, the more I see that I was actually very sweet to him. Telling him I loved him and missed him. That I was glad I had a friend like him. How appreciative I was that he was my friend. I think I'm too hard on myself some times, but at least I'm not so blind that I can't see what we did for each other.

No matter what pain I've gone through so far, I don't regret being his friend. I'm so glad he was in my life. I owe so much of who I am right now to him. And I know I made a big difference in him. Jasmine couldn't believe it when I told her how he used to be in high school. So quiet, no one liked him, didn't have any friends. In fact, I found an email wherein he and I were talking about his lack of friends. His phone had gotten ruined and he was having them send him a new one and the guy at the store asked if he'd like a lender phone until his was sent to him and I said, "Why, no one calls you but me and your mother" and he laughed and said that's what he'd told the guy the same thing. But there towards the end, he was blossoming. So charming, always laughing, such a nice guy. When we started talking again after high school, he told me he had an unhealthy obsession for ending his life and he was bipolar. By the end of his life, he had so many friends, people liked being around him, he was even spending time with friends. He always seemed happy and loved bringing happiness to others, specifically me. I hate saying things like that, because it seems like that's what people always say about loved ones when their gone, but I have no false ideas about him. I know he irritated me to no end on occasion. We had little in common and I thought his jokes were dumb. Never the less, he was a great person and a good friend.

Duane: brandie, you're awesome

me: Thanks :-)

go ahead, Duane

ask me anything

now would be the perfect timeWAIT!

confession first

Duane: I don't really have anything special to ask you. I feel likeyou're honest with me enough when you're sober

go for it

me: Fair

Awww dang

okay

Duane: hey, you know i'm okay with typos

lol

me: well, I haven't told you...but tomorrow I find out about my raise. I didn't want to tell you because 1) I feel like you maybe getting kicked out of school is more severe, and 2) I know how much you care about me and I don't like you to sit around worrying about me all day

3)

Today I found a present that Hank left me and I thought it was really sweet, but I imagined you saying "Well, EYE would do something like that if EYE had a girlfriend

4)

I like it that we have AYE and EYE and capitalized words to emphasize their meanings (I remember YOU came up with that). I used that on Joel today without thinking but I knew it wouldn't have the meaning it would have for you and I, and it made me want to talk to you

5) I think about you every time I go to Yukon, and THAT makes me miss you.

6) I think you're an amazing friend and I"m sorry I get so caught up in acting like a guy that I can't express that to you more often
_______________________________________________________________

Duane: I don't mind how you.. I guess 'interact'? with me. Its a part of who you are and I'm okay with that. I'm glad I got to have for a friend as well. Its been a crazy ride, heh. Don't need you to go all mushy like that just because I did when I was drunk, lol. Thanks though, its nice being told you're appreciated by people you care about. I love you too, crazy.

Hope you have a good day

11:35 PM Or night if you're still awake

See ya soon

me: crazy!

are you calling ME crazy?

I'll beat your ass

Duane: Lol

Duane: Don't act different towards me just because its me, alright?

Appreciate the effort but I'm in it for Brandie. Not 'Duane's Brandie'

3 Days

3 days and he's still gone. I called the funeral home today and they said I couldn't come see him. They said that I could sign a fucking book and sit in the lobby as long as I needed to. In a way, I'm really glad they made that decision for me because if they'd said I could have seen him, I'm not sure what I'd have done. I was wondering if later I'd regret not seeing him, but then I was worried that it'd be worse if I did.

I sobbed a bit here and there yesterday, but no real break down until, during my obsessive internet searching of his name, and watching the news story again, I logged onto myspace to see if Anthony had written me back. When I scoured the internet, I finally found him. Two other people were in the car with Duane and Jeffrey (Jeffrey is Duane's brother that was also...he passed on as well). The two other people were Anthony Morin and Brandon Tudar, though I think they must have mispelled Brandon's name and I couldn't find any way to contact him. Just Anthony. I wrote him the day it happened.

I didn't get to meet you. I was one of Duane's best friends. I was supposed to meet you today. I've been looking all over for you. I wanted to talk to you about the accident. I've been taking this really really hard. I've known Duane since high school. I used to stay with his family in high school. We pretty much talked every day in one way or another. He was my best friend. We made food together all the time when he was up here. Best kitchen helper I've ever had. I haven't stopped crying all day, and I don't think I'll be sleeping. He..was amazing. Best guy with the biggest heart I ever met. I guess I just wanted to talk to someone who was with him, you know? Please message me back or call me. 405-819-xxxx

Well, he wrote me back. Nothing much. Just that he understood and gave me his number. I called it and he didn't answer so I left a message, but it seems like I've been waiting forever for him to call and so I called it again and that time he answered. I was so choked up, I could barely speak. Better than when I recieved the news, but still he had to ask me to repeat myself. He seemed so numb. I had to realize he was going through something entirely different. He got to SEE Duane every day, though they maybe weren't best friends, and he was there when Duane died. It was so hard to get my first question out.

"Did he...did he die instantly? They said he was pinned for an hour, but was he already gone?"

Yes, he did, and if he didn't he was at least unconscious. It should have made me feel better. I think it DID make me feel better, but I still started crying pretty hard.

"Did he have a good time beforehand? Was his last night happy?"

Yes. They were having a great time. Duane was always laughing, always happy. I think that's why he liked me is because I'm usually bitching about one thing or another, and he would talk to me until it felt better.

He told me that when the paramedics arrived, he kept telling them to get his friend out. "Get my friend out first! I'll be okay, just get my fried out." But they didn't listen to him, so I figure it was obvious to them that he wasn't alive. I asked how he died, and Anthony said that he wanted to find out the same thing.

"Did he ever talk about me?"

Yes, he had. But that's all he would say. He'd been through a lot and was going to the therapist. I asked him to tell me his favorite memory of Duane and he couldn't. I asked him if Duane had a lot of friends on base, if everyone liked him. He said they did.

I feel like I'm pulling up carpet to find there's linoleum underneath. Then I take that up and there's more carpet. I finally got my answers about Duane. So that chapter is closed. I know he didn't suffer. The wreck happened suddenly. He was having a good night until that point. So now that that carpet is taken care of, I find that instead of being shocked, I'm now depressed. Duane's chapter is closed. I know he's gone. But what am I going to do now? Now, I'm thinking how am *I* supposed to continue? Though it's been three days, he's still who my last email is from. I looked through a few of them, but there are thousands between us just in the last few years. I tried reading a few letters he wrote me from camp and I couldn't finish the last one I tried to read.

For the most part, I've run out of tears, but my heart still feels like it's ripped and still ripping. It's been at night. I lie down, and there's no distractions and there is a literal pain in my chest. Like I'm being stabbed. It's a real physical pain. The day before yesterday I was determined to live for Duane. I didn't hurt myself because I know he would have been upset with me for doing that. I decided, I'm going to go do all the things I told him I would. I'm going to LIVE. But yesterday, or more last night, I just thought, "Why live?" "Why go on?" If life can be filled with this much pain, why do people keep living?

I was flipping through channels yesterday and every other movie or show was about loss of some kind. Someone's restaurant was ruined and the guy was sobbing loudly. Someone's house burned down. Someone had been broken up with. And though I knew these weren't as bad as what I'm going through, I recognized the pain. Before this, those things would have seemed completely terrible to me. The end of the world. And just thinking that I would have thought that, and then this happened...why go through it? Yesterday, I thought that maybe I'd thought of suicide before, but now going through this, I'd never put anyone through that on my behalf. But this new layer of linoleum is so ugly that I can't even remember that I've taken up the carpet that lied on top of it.

Thanksgiving.

My friend died two days ago. All I could say was "He's dead, he's dead, he's dead." I couldn't believe it. Like a bad nightmare. I repeat worn-out phrases, but they sound so hollow. There's a hole in my heart shaped like him. I had referenced him in an earlier post. He's the one that helped me clean my apartment. He died on Thanksgiving and I was supposed to have spent it with him. Everything sounds so cliche, but I can't help but say them.

"I can't believe he's dead."
"this feels like a nightmare."
"Why him?"
"Why me?"

and everything people were saying felt like cliches

"He'll live on in your heart"
"He's in a better place"

What better place than with me? I keep wondering if he died instantly...the report said that he was pinned for an hour and died on the scene. I was wondering what took him so long to answer my texts. I tried to write something about it yesterday, but I only got the two lines:

Every person I've hugged, every shoulder I've cried on
Reminds me that mine's not the one that you died on

I just think, if he had to die, why couldn't I have been there in his last moments? Was he thinking of me? Did I really get across how much I loved him? Did he know? He only ever wanted to support me in my dreams. I had mentioned that in the distant future I wanted to open a coffee shop and he ran with it. The past few months, we'd talk about it all the time. He believed in me so much more than I believed in myself. He just wanted me to know how special I was. He had saved up a bunch of money and we were going to open the shop together. All of my dreams were just created to make me feel better. I'd never have the tenacity to go through with them. But that's all he wanted for me

Duane: Life gets to you sometimes, but at least you know its just temporary

1:03 PM me: that's why the coffee shop is making me happy now.

my only worry is wondering if I'm responsible enough to keep up with it

1:04 PM Duane: Even if you won't be I'll make sure you do, loll

me: :)

1:08 PM Duane: There's no possible way something can keep this from happening, just so you know

1:09 PM me: That makes me very happy

I'm really glad I've got a friend like you

couldn't get rid of you if I tried.

1:10 PM Duane: lol, thanks


Nothing to keep this from happening. That's what he said. He couldn't have known this would happen, but it still hurts. But true to his word, he named me as a beneficiary on his life insurance policy through the military. He said if anything should happen to him, he wanted me to open "The Spark". That's the name I always had picked out from the beginning. He even made a picture and had photoshopped "The Spark" onto this restaurant. I think now, I'll name it "The Gibson Spark" in honor of the person who would make it possible.

I don't really feel like I'm saying everything I can about what a wonderful and dear friend he was to me. I've known him since highschool. I had a crush on him and he was mean to me. Later, the tables would turn. We went to Europe together. He wrote me letters when I worked at camp this summer. And still, after two days, he's who my last email is from.

Every step I take makes me feel worse. Makes him seem more dead. His mother called me to tell me when the funeral was, but I couldn't ask where the morgue was. It was too much yesterday. I didn't know whether to say "Duane" or "the body" and I lost it. I've been through most of today without crying much. I teared up about two or three times, but I don't feel like I have any tears left to cry. I told someone about it yesterday without breaking down. Another step. They stopped playing his story on the news. Another step. I ran out of people to tell about it. Another step. I found the last picture of him I had in my email.

I feel better today, but not good. I feel bad for feeling better.

TTP

A thought that reoccurred to me throughout high school was, "I see people doing these awful things, manipulative things, but does it make me worse because I do them AND realize that I'm doing it?" I think often times, man suffers greatly with what's right and what's wrong. Or at least I did. I was always wondering if what I was doing was right or wrong. I think religion teaches it's followers that there IS black and white. I suppose what upset me more than my Christian peers was that I didn't really know if what I was doing or how I was thinking was right or wrong. Usually, my struggle was wants and desires vs the bible. The will of god according to the things I learned about him vs the version of right and wrong I saw in actual life and was taught by my upbringing.
Often times, there would be this divided force in my brain. It was an abusive mother and a child-victim. The mother would yell at the girl and tell her she was stupid, and the little girl would argue that she was only trying to be a good person in some form or another. I'm not sure if that was my desire to be a victim all the time becoming a deep-seeded part of my view about the world, or if, since I couldn't figure out right and wrong, that my mind split itself to support the conflict I was having with myself.
I still have these problems sometimes, but after high school, I realized that no one is good and no one is bad, we all just have a different moral code. I feel like I had been taken out of my skin to see that, when it seemed to me that none of my friends or family had that problem, barring my twin sister. Like, looking at yourself from an audience and trying to figure out if I was the protagonist or not. Am I the good guy? Am I the bad guy? Naturally, since the story is about me, I want to be the protagonist. But then, occasionally I get a good glimpse of what I must look like to an onlooker and think I couldn't be a worse person. I'm opportunistic. I'm manipulative. I'm happy to be on top. I think it's funny that all of these things are things I look for to decide I don't want to date someone. And it's true, opposites attract. They also say that you're more likely to date someone who has qualities you desire for yourself, so I guess in that way everyone is selfish.
I don't know if this is going anywhere. Perhaps I'll think on this more. In my journal in high school, I used to write TTP whenever I exhausted a subject and couldn't think of a new perspective for it. Though to Ponder.

Untitled

Doesn't it seem like the most exciting things are untitled? You open your email to see you have an untitled message. I suppose the source is just as important as the fact that it's untitled. I always find my heart missing beats when I open my email to find I have an untitled message from an ex, or a future boyfriend, without really caring so much if it's from an unknown name or someone I'm not interested in talking to. So that's the opening for this blog.

That being said, I haven't been making very good decisions lately. My passive side has been coming out and, instead of facing my problems, I just minutely acknowledge them in hopes they won't try to talk to me. I realized in doing so, I hurt a great many people. I usually am not prone to this method of problem solving, so I've been wondering what's changed that makes me act in this way.

So I slept with this guy (we'll call him One-Nigher),and this other guy (Persistant) who I told I wasn't interested in, but wasn't forceful enough about it found out and got upset. When Persistent left me alone after seeing I had been with One-Nighter, I realized that I hadn't actually wanted to sleep with the One-Nighter because I liked him, but only to get out of what I was already in and did not want to be in. I feel like a person who makes bad decisions. I stopped talking to One-Nighter today, and I'm sure he's really sad about it. He's a very nice guy, but I'm too embarassed to see him. You see, I realized that I not only don't want to be with this man, but actually quite the opposite. I think he's...well I find him horribly unattractive now. I told him this would be the case before the first time. I explained that I have done this in the past, but I don't think that will make this easier for him. I feel this stage has been set by sleeping with him that makes it embarassing to try to act another way around him. This doesn't seem to be very interesting, but since no one is reading this anyway, I think these blogs will become more like journal entries.