He Left It All Behind

He left it all behind.

Aaron left behind his cologne which I now wear every day.  It smells amazing though I fear the day the bottle runs empty in that it symbolizes yet another ending. 

His brown leather wallet detailed with tan stitching and embossed with the John 3:16 scripture verse sits on a shelf in the closet next to one of his favorite baseball hats.  His prescription glasses haven’t moved from the bedroom windowsill.  His shirts hang untouched in the closet. His boots are frozen in place on the floor. His razor has been in the same exact spot for 40 straight days.

The florescent green kayak he purchased at REI is stacked under mine in the garage.  He never drank from the Dutch Bro’s thermos which I believe he purchased the day before he died.  I eventually removed the cardboard wrapping, washed it, and placed it in the kitchen cabinet.  Every time I see it I’m reminded that when Aaron bought it, even he didn’t know he’d take his own life the following morning.   He loved Dutch Bro’s coffee. 

He also loved music, the state of Arizona, and photographing beautiful sunsets.  He had a loyal following on photography websites.  He loved going to the cabin, riding his Buell motorcycle, and hiking.  

He left it all behind.  Along with his mom, his dad, his brother, Aunts and Uncles....and his best friend in the whole world.

He left behind the the love I had for him.

The love we had for each other.

Our relationship.  Our friendship.  

Our everything....

Everything that was good in his life...

He left it all behind.

Acceptance is hard.  Trying to escape the constant itch and irritation of the questions I have to which I will never receive answers is torture. 

His decision and his absence have left me deeply sad, devastated and confused.   I continue to live in a state of sheer disbelief.   He just left so much undone, so many promises unfulfilled and plans that never came to fruition.  He just simply left it all behind.

How horrific his pain must have been to cause him to commit an act so grossly against human nature.  A pain so enormous that it consumed and eventually dismissed his will to survive.

A pain that rendered him hopeless in the moment and for the future.  He must have thought he was a burden to his loved ones.   I would bet he dreaded bedtime knowing his thoughts would haunt him and keep him awake at night when I so easily drifted off to sleep. The extreme highs and the depressing lows must have been exhausting as he fought to find neutral ground.  But I don't think he could.  Neutral ground didn’t exist for him.   The sadness, distress, torment and suffering always a returning and unwanted guest in his mind.  He fought for happiness.  He fought for stability.  It all seems so clear now.  Looking back I can tell the demons were stronger; the depression was relentless.  

And so....

he left it all behind.

Piece for Peace

I feel like my heart has been ripped into tiny pieces of emotion, each piece baring its own label:  Denial.  Sadness.  Depression.  Despair.  Betrayal.  Anger.  

It's that last piece - Anger - that I hate the most.  It feels like an unwanted guest.  I'm okay sitting with sadness...that makes sense.  And, give me more moments where I just don't believe Aaron's gone; denial being the 1 or 2 minute vacation I take daily when I spray his cologne and could swear he's in the next room.  Depression, while not my favorite, is my new normal.  And, yes, I sometimes feel betrayal over the way Aaron left me, but sadness and depression win the emotional war so often that I forget betrayal even exists.

But that feeling of anger that washes over me and causes me to purse my lips and shake my head in disgust...

I don't like it.  That can emotional piece can go straight to hell.

I do not want to be angry at the man I loved the most in the world.   I just want to feel love, compassion and empathy toward him. 

But, I do feel angry more than I care to admit.  I feel my hands tightening over the steering wheel as I drive away from my post office with mail addressed to Aaron; mail I'll eventually give to his dad and it breaks my heart every single time.  His dad doesn't want his son's mail.  He wants his son.    

I feel angry when I remember the promises Aaron made to me that will never be fulfilled; promises to take me back to the Grand Canyon, to ride our bikes to Zion National Park, and to be married someday.  He said he would never leave me and promised to love me forever.

I'm angry that my cabin, the place to which I'd escape to rest, recharge and center myself now feels like a black hole containing a void so large that I'm almost positive it can never be filled.

I'm angry when I see his mom cry over the loss of her son.  I'm angry Aaron didn't ask for help; like he was some puzzle we were just supposed to piece together and now it's like it just sits on a table unfinished....all of us feeling like failures because we didn't get it right.

But, I still can't stay angry at him for long.  

I remember his green eyes that lit up with his smile, the way he would look at me when I told him I loved him and all the times he would act goofy to make me smile.  

And, I remember that all I ever wanted for him was for him to be happy.

No, I don't sit with anger very long.  I just love him too much.  That piece of my heart that wants to surge with anger is always quickly replaced with compassion and love.  It's a tradeoff that I easily make every single time.  My anger piece for his emotional peace.  

Love wins every time.