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CHASE
My grief is a vast ocean. Every time I think I’ve made it to the surface, another wave pushes me back under. Every time I think I’ll start to feel something, my brain rejects it and sends me spiraling. Continuously, I’m fighting for my life, gasping for breath, but then the next tide washes over me, clouding my mind from the pain pounding at my entire being.
I want to break through. Even now, as I sit stock-still in the hard pew, hearing our family and friends talk about what a wonderful human being my best friend was while tears pour down their faces, I want to grieve with them. I want to feel that pain and despair and to cry my eyes out and release this immense pain that’s trapped inside me. If I could release it, then maybe I could move on from it.
Indira gives her eulogy, making everyone laugh as she talks about how she first met Emily. I want to laugh with them—I remember that day like it was just last week, though it feels like we’ve lived a lifetime since then—but I can’t seem to work it up my chest. I’m a rock, face still and hard, gaze trained in front of me so as to not meet anyone’s eye. My only humanity is seen in the grip I have on Willow’s hand.
When Indira’s finished, it’s Drake’s turn. I opted out of getting in front of everyone and speaking about her. My mom chastised me for it, but everything I had to say to and about Emily, I said when she was alive. Everyone in this church knows my love for her, my commitment to our friendship. I don’t need my sadness on display for them to gawk at while I force a rehearsed speech full of words I can’t even feel.
Willow sobs to the left of me, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her in tight. Emotionally, I’m so far removed from everything going on around my physical body that it floods me with shame. I want to feel Willow’s pain so she doesn’t have to face it alone. I want to show her that no matter how much it hurts right now, we’re going to be okay. And even though I don’t feel it myself, I whisper those words to her.
“Shh. It’ll be okay, Willow. I promise it’ll be okay.” I cringe at how dull my voice sounds. I’m not even sure if that’s the right thing to tell her, that things will be okay. It doesn’t feel like they will be.
The last eulogy is from my mother. She cries the entire time, but she keeps a smile on her face. I wish I could be as strong as she is. She’s always a rock, no matter the circumstances. Every tear-soaked word that falls from her lips constricts my throat tighter. Every memory she shares presses harder into my chest. I tug at the collar of my shirt, trying to draw in just a little more air, but it’s futile.
My head spins as I look around the room. At my mother, my daughter, my girlfriend, and all of the other people who loved Emily. They’re all hurting too, but they’re surviving. They’re moving forward. So why am I stuck in this limbo? Is this my purgatory? Am I to somehow atone for my sins before I get to the other side?
Emily would have handled this so much better than I am. If our roles were reversed, she would be doing everything right—taking care of everyone and saying all the right things. But I can barely manage to put one foot in front of the other. I can’t look my girlfriend in the eyes because of the love I see shining back at me. I can’t stand to hear the sobs ripping from my daughter’s chest because I know I can’t heal her.
“Chase?” Addison’s voice is soft and angelic beside me.
I squeeze my eyes tight, battling with myself, knowing I need to comfort her. I’ve hurt her by being distant, and it makes me fucking hate myself. But I also can’t seem to stop. When I look at Addison, all I see is my happiness. I see my future with Willow, Addison, and our son, and yet I can’t let go of this guilt that’s eating me alive.
It pains me knowing I’m disappointing Addison, knowing I’m hurtingher, but my brain shouts at me to push it away.
Emily’s gone and I still have everything.
How is that fair?
