Posted by: shelliejelly | August 8, 2008

There was a time

Ever since I was a young girl I believed that some people were meant to be together. I can’t say I understood the feeling completely or how I thought the universe conspired to bring two bodies together, but I just knew, somewhere deep in my heart, that I’d meet who I was meant to meet.

Sure, there were times when I doubted this feeling, or, to be more specific, doubted that there was someone for me. But this knowing, this feeling like the world worked on a deeper level that eluded common sense made me feel safe and allowed me to have my magical dreams and hold tight to my idealism. The world wasn’t perfect, but somewhere, unbeknown to we mere mortals, it made perfect sense.

That isn’t a religious tone you hear, either.

So, when K. showed up screaming into my life with smiles and laughs and open arms, I rested my head and said “Ahhh.” I knew, almost immediately, that he was someone I was supposed to love. At the time, after having never been in love, I felt somehow at home, like I’d been holding my breath for years and could finally exhale, deep and cleansing.

When he died at the age of 23, me at 26, I won’t lie and say I felt okay. The world didn’t make sense anymore and I felt like I was the butt of some joke. I have pages of journal entries that are dedicated to piecing together what happened, trying to find the link between what I believed to be true and what was unfolding before my eyes. I am sure all that grieve come to this place shortly after having lost, the place where you still feel like you have some control, that if you work hard enough for long enough an answer will appear and you can sleep peacefully again knowing that you weren’t just randomly chosen to weather one of life’s shit storms.

Oddly, 10 years later, I sometimes still find myself searching, though these days its less of a compulsion than it was in the days immediately following, perhaps because I now know there will never be an answer. I still turn over the occasional rock, so to speak, hoping against hope I’ll stumble down the rabbit hole where all questions are answered.

And when I met O., I thought maybe I’d found my rabbit hole.

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