resting in peace | gone too soon

i didn't know phillip seymore hoffman personally. i've seen his movies and i know that he was a terrific actor.

i didn't personally know heath ledger or any of his demons. i wasn't there in his apartment where he died.

or corey monteith. or chris farley. or janis joplin. or jim morrison. or the hundred upon hundreds of others who have lost control and let an unfortunate side of life take over. i don't know what living their life felt like for them.

i'm not familiar with their history or the goals they had for their future. i've never met their families or close friends. i don't know their favorite foods, books, or songs. i have no idea the way that their minds ticked. i can't even say that i'm a fan of all of their work, nor, do i even know most of it without the use of an internet search engine.

but here is what i do know:

i know what it's like to be one of the people who loved them. i know what it's like to be one of the people who secretly never gave up hope of their recovery, no matter how angry they were with their addict. i know what it's like to be one of the people who woke up one morning to a life that will never be the same. i know how painful it feels to watch someone carelessly throw away and lose their life.

for me, their deaths are personal. not because i'm a mush who feels a silly attachment to everything or everyone which or whom has nothing to do with me. not because i want to be one of the millions and millions of people who will post a REST IN PEACE somewhere on social media in order to show my respects to the people whom they left behind, all while knowing nothing about how their loved ones were left.

no.

what i know is that i desperately wish that i didn't take their deaths so personally. i wish that memories didn't hit me like a punch to the gut. i wish that i couldn't recall so specifically that feeling of loss before due time. i wish i couldn't recall the pain one feels when there are things left unsaid, when you know that their death could've been prevented if only they cared a little more for themselves.

i wish i wasn't familiar with the animosity one feels because they feel that this person was given the easy way out and in turn left a large group of people heartbroken. i wish i hadn't, too, been left hanging somewhere in the proverbial balance without closure, without anything to rest my heart and head on.

i know the back-breaking weight that comes along with the heaviness of things left unsaid. i've lived them. i continue to live them. and i will most likely always live with some form of weight on my shoulders. it's simply a part of my story and a large part of who i am and why i am the way that i am.

on may 9th, for the fourth year, i will once again, be faced with another twenty-four hours of not being able to keep all of those feelings at bay. i will live through- not only those feelings- but all of the things that i wish i could say. they will race through my mind at lightening speed, with an unrelenting determination of asking, "why, why, who, what, what, why?" i will live through the doubt and the questions surrounding what i could've or should've done- if i should've tried harder. what i'm usually able to keep in the background of my life- or at the very least, guarded behind a sarcastic and witty shell of avoidance- will be brought to the front line because it is the day that i became one of the people whose life was changed forever.

it was the day that guaranteed that nothing could ever change and no longer could anything be done to help.

i will feel anger because i was left without closure, closure that i can't honestly say that i ever sought.  i will wonder what i could've done to help him and what i could've done to make him feel better so that he didn't need that last drink or the twenty thousand before it. i will wonder what made him so sad and so shut off that drinking away his pain felt like his only option. i will pine after answers that will never come.

so, i won't say to those who have passed to rest in peace.

they've already found their version of it, i suppose.

i will, however, wish that the people whom they've left behind are able to rest because they are the ones who will be left searching for peace.