Rise Above This
Twenty-Ninth Letter
Allison.
Brace yourself, because this is going to hurt.
On December 28, 2009 your entire life will end – but only your life as you know it.
That’s the day he dies.
You know who I mean.
When you wake up and turn your phone on you will receive seventeen messages telling you the same thing. Four of these will be from Vanessa. Call her first.
You’ll scream.
Scream so loud and so long and so hard that your throat will feel as raw as your heart.
Let it out.
Your heart isn’t going to break.
It’s going to shatter.
The jagged edges will stab every aspect of your being, and, no matter how hard you try, it won’t feel okay. The place in your heart where he once existed is going to be ripped out of you. There’s an empty hole there now. It’s a gaping, hungry, gnawing black hole that sucks every facet of your happiness dry. It’s a parasite that you now play host to. Something that is as much apart of you as your name and your scars.
Slowly, as the weeks go by, the hole will sink.
It doesn’t disappear. It doesn’t shrink.
It sinks into your stomach where it sits. There, in the pit of your belly, it waits.
It waits until you’ve risen high above it, until you think you’ve come to grips with it, and that’s when it rears its snarling head and sinks its cold teeth in deep. Its agony, and there’s nothing you can do. It’s like being punched in the stomach again and again and again until you can’t breathe, can’t think, can't speak. All you can do is bite your lip and try not to cry.
I wish I could tell you that you get used to it.
You don’t.
I wish I could tell you that you can tell when it happens.
You can’t.
It comes out of nowhere.
It comes at night, when you’re almost asleep, drifting in that in-between place – suspended above reality, but just below your dreams. Suddenly, in that almost moment, you’ll see his smile, hear his laugh, remember their melodies, and its there.
It comes during the day, when you’re out with Molly, flying high on friendship and teenage abandon. You can almost touch the fucking sky – that’s how happy you are in that moment. And it’s in that moment that your ipod shuffle will play “Afterlife” or “Warmness on the Soul” and you’re gone.
Tears prick your eyes.
Doubled over with the suddenness of the onslaught.
Gasping for breath, for balance.
Your soul burns.
And no one will understand.
Mom and Dad.
They think he was a drug addict, a waste of space.
Molly.
She knows you love him, but she can’t comprehend why, after all this time, it still affects you like this.
The girls at school?
They’re fake. If they even know who he was, they’re still not worth your time, because they think that “Afterlife” is the best song they’ve ever made.
The only people you have are Jade, Dani, and Vee.
Pull them close, hold them to you.
Fill the void with their love.
It won’t be enough, but it’ll ease the edge.
I wish I could tell you that time heals this.
Its now early April, and it still hurts every bit as much as it did on December 28th.
Time doesn’t heal this wound.
You become accustomed to living in a world without your hero.
It becomes second nature to send a prayer his way.
It becomes second nature to avoid watching their videos.
It becomes second nature to wince when someone mentions his name.
It’ll be a long time before you can listen to them again.
But remember.
They’re your boys.
Even if they never play another note, hold them in your heart.
They need your support, your love, your dedication.
Write that letter to him.
He’s with you now.
As long as your love for him never dies, neither will he.
Get your “FICTION” tattoo.
Learn to talk about him in the past tense.
Learn to listen to their music again, without crying.
Re-read your stories about him.
Finish them. Give him the happy ending he deserves.
Your hero is dead.
That is what defines you now.
But only as much as you let it.
If you lose the light, Dani will find it for you.
If you feel like your losing the fight, He will raise you up.
James Owen Sullivan is your guardian angel now.
Your hero is your angel.
And he will show you how to rise above this.
You’re stronger than you know.
It won’t be okay, but you will make it.
Believe.
- Allison.
Brace yourself, because this is going to hurt.
On December 28, 2009 your entire life will end – but only your life as you know it.
That’s the day he dies.
You know who I mean.
When you wake up and turn your phone on you will receive seventeen messages telling you the same thing. Four of these will be from Vanessa. Call her first.
You’ll scream.
Scream so loud and so long and so hard that your throat will feel as raw as your heart.
Let it out.
Your heart isn’t going to break.
It’s going to shatter.
The jagged edges will stab every aspect of your being, and, no matter how hard you try, it won’t feel okay. The place in your heart where he once existed is going to be ripped out of you. There’s an empty hole there now. It’s a gaping, hungry, gnawing black hole that sucks every facet of your happiness dry. It’s a parasite that you now play host to. Something that is as much apart of you as your name and your scars.
Slowly, as the weeks go by, the hole will sink.
It doesn’t disappear. It doesn’t shrink.
It sinks into your stomach where it sits. There, in the pit of your belly, it waits.
It waits until you’ve risen high above it, until you think you’ve come to grips with it, and that’s when it rears its snarling head and sinks its cold teeth in deep. Its agony, and there’s nothing you can do. It’s like being punched in the stomach again and again and again until you can’t breathe, can’t think, can't speak. All you can do is bite your lip and try not to cry.
I wish I could tell you that you get used to it.
You don’t.
I wish I could tell you that you can tell when it happens.
You can’t.
It comes out of nowhere.
It comes at night, when you’re almost asleep, drifting in that in-between place – suspended above reality, but just below your dreams. Suddenly, in that almost moment, you’ll see his smile, hear his laugh, remember their melodies, and its there.
It comes during the day, when you’re out with Molly, flying high on friendship and teenage abandon. You can almost touch the fucking sky – that’s how happy you are in that moment. And it’s in that moment that your ipod shuffle will play “Afterlife” or “Warmness on the Soul” and you’re gone.
Tears prick your eyes.
Doubled over with the suddenness of the onslaught.
Gasping for breath, for balance.
Your soul burns.
And no one will understand.
Mom and Dad.
They think he was a drug addict, a waste of space.
Molly.
She knows you love him, but she can’t comprehend why, after all this time, it still affects you like this.
The girls at school?
They’re fake. If they even know who he was, they’re still not worth your time, because they think that “Afterlife” is the best song they’ve ever made.
The only people you have are Jade, Dani, and Vee.
Pull them close, hold them to you.
Fill the void with their love.
It won’t be enough, but it’ll ease the edge.
I wish I could tell you that time heals this.
Its now early April, and it still hurts every bit as much as it did on December 28th.
Time doesn’t heal this wound.
You become accustomed to living in a world without your hero.
It becomes second nature to send a prayer his way.
It becomes second nature to avoid watching their videos.
It becomes second nature to wince when someone mentions his name.
It’ll be a long time before you can listen to them again.
But remember.
They’re your boys.
Even if they never play another note, hold them in your heart.
They need your support, your love, your dedication.
Write that letter to him.
He’s with you now.
As long as your love for him never dies, neither will he.
Get your “FICTION” tattoo.
Learn to talk about him in the past tense.
Learn to listen to their music again, without crying.
Re-read your stories about him.
Finish them. Give him the happy ending he deserves.
Your hero is dead.
That is what defines you now.
But only as much as you let it.
If you lose the light, Dani will find it for you.
If you feel like your losing the fight, He will raise you up.
James Owen Sullivan is your guardian angel now.
Your hero is your angel.
And he will show you how to rise above this.
You’re stronger than you know.
It won’t be okay, but you will make it.
Believe.
- Allison.
♠ ♠ ♠
All because of you, I believe in angels.