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Monday, 04 May 2009

Dear Spencer - aftermath

Dear Spencer,

     It has been five days since your funeral. It was lovely and heart wrenching. I have visited you every day since, and today, I went twice. I hear Evan is taking this hard, as am I. Jared and Peter don't talk about it much. Randall and Jared did go with me today. It was nice sitting outside in the sun with you. The birthday balloons that your parents brought were dancing in the wind and flirting with Randall...so he headbutted them. It made us laugh. You have so many flowers. I told Jared today that I didn't think there would ever be grass growing over you because people would keep bringing so many flowers.
     That made me think about life five, ten, fifteen years from now. Will I still visit you all the time? Or will you be forgotten by everyone who found you so important at this time in our lives? I promised Evan I would visit every year for your birthday, and so help me God, I will keep that promise. It's so weird to think about the future with you not in it. I thought about your little brother. You won't be around when he gets his permit, driver's license, when turns eighteen, twenty-one, when he gets married. I thought about him having to tell his future children about the older brother he had who died. He'll have to share that story about Uncle Spencer. What about the children you could have had, Spencer?
     I still can't grasp it. You. Are. Gone. Forever. You "peaced out." Said, adios. Aufwiedersehen. Chao. It feels so strange to think about it. Like, something is missing to my life. Oh, yeah. You. I feel so hollow, so empty, so lifeless. I just want to be by myself. I want to have fun, but then again, I don't. I get tired of explaining myself to people and talking about what happened with you, but it's the only thing on my mind these days. I've never had somebody close to me die before. I mean, my great-grandma died when I was eight, but she and I weren't very close. When I was sixteen, a girl I went to middle and high school with died. She and I talked occasionally. We said hey in the hallway sometimes, but we moved in different circles and never hung out. Her death hit me but not like yours did. Your death has left me a totally different person. I have no energy, no motivation. Some nights I can sleep, other nights I can't.
     I think my brain is trying to protect me in my sleep. I haven't dreamt of you. I suppose that's a good thing. When I think about it hard enough, I picture you in your car with that gun. What was your last thought? Did you hesitate? Did you cry as you sent that mass text message to your friends? Your last goodbye. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I hear Caroline screaming on the other end of that awful phone call. She was hysterical. It took a few minutes to understand what she was saying. "...killed himself," was all I heard. I asked who. "Spencer!" I just got chills thinking about it. My whole body began to shake. I felt like I was having a seizure. I didn't cry; it took me a few minutes. I could barely walk. As soon as I sat down, the water works began. Here they come again, Spencer. This painful memory is etched into my mind forever. I am scarred.
     Oh, Spencer. Oh, my dearest Spencer. I want to see you again. Just, just a few minutes. Enough time to hug you and tell you that I love you and I miss you. Enough time to hear your sarcasm and your hilarious accents. Just enough time...to say goodbye to you in person. I feel so alone in all of this. I feel like I'm fighting this off by myself. I don't know how to ask for help; I feel like everyone else is so tired of me. It shouldn't have been this way. We should be sitting in your and Jared's apartment. Mayela, too. Drinking, smoking, eating my brownies, watching whatever is on TV, taking stupid pictures.
     I never took any pictures of you, Spencer. I hate that. I hate it so much. I have two pictures of you. Joe sent around the picture of you in your short PT shorts from basic training. That picture is undoubtably Spencer. And you were so drunk. I wish I had been there that night. I wish I had been there the night Mayela jumped from your car. Perhaps, just perhaps, I could have somehow prevented her from fighting the other girl. Maybe I could have somehow kept the two of you from leaving the apartment. I would have definitely tried. Y'all had been drinking; I would've taken your keys.
     I know, I shouldn't beat myself up with these "what ifs" and "if onlys." The past is done. I feel as if I'm standing still while the rest of the world goes on without me. I want someone to hold me and tell me everything will be okay. And I want to believe them. And I want to be okay. Because, right now, I'm not okay. I'm torn into a million scattered pieces. There is a large chunk of my heart that is missing. Can we go back to that night when we slept on the chair together at your sketchy friend's house? I'll admit, I did think you were a bit of a creeper after that night, but I realize you were intoxicated so I forgive you. I think it will be quite some time before I can do something like that again without thinking about you. Time is all I need for a lot of things. Yet, time seems to be dragging its feet. It's not that I'm in a hurry, necessarily, to heal and get over your death. My days just seem slower than they were before. I feel slower. Perhaps I need something different. Something new. Something fresh.
     I'm wrapping it up, Spencer. It's getting long and I'm getting tired. Crying makes me tired. I haven't cried this much in a couple of days. I'm tired of being strong. I'm tired of fighting this alone. I'm just tired. So very tired. Tired of thinking, tired of talking. I just want to sleep. Goodnight, Spencer. I love you. I miss you.

Much love even in suffering,
Amber

Wednesday, 29 April 2009

Currently
I Will Remember You
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Dear Spencer

Dear Spencer,

     We buried you today. I wish you could have seen all the people. I have never seen so many people gather in memory of just one person. Perhaps if you had foreseen that, then you would have changed your mind. A good story with a devastating ending. I wish you didn't do it. You didn't have to, you know. There are so many people who would have helped you, just as you would have helped any of us in need. You were so lovable. That cheesy grin of yours could melt anybody's heart. You were such a genuine and honest person. Anybody would be proud to call you 'friend.' Your sense of humor, you no-bullshit tolerance, your hard work ethics. I loved the way you smelled and the hugs you gave. I have to say, your hugs are honestly some of the best hugs in the world. And I'll never get the chance to hug you again.
     This isn't easy for me, babe. Let me tell you how I've felt about it. Angry, exasperated, bitter, irate, enraged, resentful, devastated, desolated, distressed, depressed, heartbroken, upset, confused, bewildered, perplexed, shocked, stunned, astonished, dismayed. Put those feelings into one person all at once then throw in the fact that you will never see a good friend of yours ever again. It's more than I can handle. And it's not just that you went, it's the way you went. Why did you steal that gun? I know things got difficult to handle, but you were tough, Spencer. You didn't give up easily. You wouldn't give in without a fight. Why did you quit? You weren't a coward. I just...I want to understand. I just can't wrap my head around the fact that you got to such a low point in your life that you felt you only had one way out. Do you know how badly that hurts?
     I tried to say goodbye at the cemetery today. Gabby asked me to walk up to your casket with her. All I could do was reach out and touch it. Gabby said "Goodbye, amigo." I broke. I broke. I tried to suppress it, but I couldn't. As soon as I was away from you, it was like a dam broke. Peter hugged me as I cried hysterically. I thought funerals were supposed to be a time of closure and farewell and whatever else goes along with it. Why don't I have any closure? I can't deal with the fact that I don't know for sure why you did this, why you have put hundreds of people through this kind of pain. People say I should talk about it, but I just can't. I don't know how. I just want to sit in a room alone and cry. I'm so angry, Spencer. I want you to know that I am just so angry. I am not any closer to having peace in my heart over your death.
     Dammit, you broke your promise, too. Remember you promised to come sit with me during Sunday brunch? Well, you didn't. Instead you went to the beach with the guys. I really didn't mind that you didn't come; I wasn't all that hurt about it...until now. Now I would give anything to see you sitting at a booth at Tripps, eating, talking, laughing, making fun of Rita. Nobody can do a Russian accent quite like you, my dear. At your wake last night, I asked someone to do a Rita impression. Randall bumped into me and immediately, in a lady's voice, began apologizing over and over again. I made him stop. He was doing it wrong. I wanted the accent. I wanted your accent. We can't even text in German anymore. You can't make fun of me for nearly burning down your apartment on the first night you moved in because I left the oven on. You have to admit, those brownies were banging. Did you ever get that hookah to work? I know you were having trouble.
     I missed you when you left. I know Mayela's death was hard for you, as was the aftermath. I was really worried about you. I'm sorry I never called you. I didn't think it would help at all. I didn't think you wanted to be bothered. The day you came to tell Kristen you were quitting, I was so very excited to see you. You really have no idea. You certainly brightened my day. I loved working with you. You definitely made it more entertaining and much more bareable. I can't quite express how joyous I was when I saw you from far away getting out of Peter's car over a month later. You had told me you were in Colorado until April so I didn't expect to see you in March. My dear, I left my state of relaxation sitting in my car to run back into Tripps to seek you out. Yes, those were my boobs being rubbed all over you as I hugged you so tightly. I know you have never objected to anything of that nature. And I loved spending those two extra hours sitting at Table 92 later that week as I told you of my adventures in Europe. I'm still very sorry for not bringing you back a shotglass. I did think of you while I was there, though. Also, Joe sent around the picture he took of you on his cell phone. The night (one of many) you got completely wasted and decided to prance around in your little biker shorts. Oh, Spencer, how I love that photo. So undeniably you. You were such an incredible person.
     Help me out, Spence, I don't know how I'm going to get over this. You remember the time Caroline made a joke about the tattoo on your hand meaning "faggot" in Mongolian? That was incredibly hilarious! You got so defensive. Do you remember when you told me about the woman from Johnston county who you convinced you were a foreign exchange student from England? I have to say, that story makes me smile. "Wow, you speak really good English for not being here that long." Oh my god. You know how dearly you and I love stupidity. That wasn't ignorance; that was stupidity. And remember what you, Donyale and I established should be said at the end of every sentence? "That's what she said, if you know what I mean. Purr." We sure do know how to make everything sound so...so naughty. And I can't forget the "awkward nipple hair" or the "T-rex arms."
     Oh, there are countless other memories. Too many to mention. Do you remember them? Do you remember some that have slipped my mind? Do they make you smile? Do you regret your decision yet, or do you still think it was best for you? I made a decision today. I was thinking about the future. Even though I'm sure I won't forget you, I want to make sure that I never, ever forget you or what you meant to me. Your "Mongolian" tattoo, the horizon with the crescent moon and evening star that was on your hand, I'm going to get one as well. I won't put it on my hand, but it will probably be larger with the dates under it. I haven't decided if I will put your name on it yet, but I'm thinking about it. Do you like the idea? I don't know what it meant to you, but I know what it means to me now.
     I think I will bring this to a close now. Before I do, I would like for you to know. I hope you knew. I'm not the type of person to say this to anyone. I love you, Spencer. I have always loved you. From the first moment I met you, I liked you instantly. You had such a way about you that drew people to you. And I'm trying, Spencer. I'm trying so hard to find the peace that I need. I'm trying so desperately to let this go. I just don't know how. Like you, I'm not the type to talk about my pain. I don't know how. For your sake, my dear, I will try. I miss you. I'm sorry I can't elaborately describe how much I miss you, but just know that I miss you so bad it hurts. I'm trying to say goodbye. I know I need to. My heart is broken. This pain is worse than any bad breakup. This is a pain you never get over; it's a pain you learn to live with. I hope you now know how much and how many people loved you. And still love you. You were such a key role in so many lives. Rest now, love.

I love you more than you know. I will forever miss you and your smile. Goodbye.

So much love,
Amber Phillips

R.I.P. Carl Spencer Bolick
April 30, 1990 - April 23, 2009

Tuesday, 07 April 2009

Dreams: Foreshadows or Figments of Imagination?

Everyone has heard the theory (or superstition) that dreams are a sort of portal to the future. People believe that dreams can predict the future, or at least give a foresight that something terrible or wonderful is coming. Dreams have played a significant role throughout time in every culture, dating back to Mesopotamia and Ancient Egypt. Ancient Egyptians believed that dreams were given by Serapis, the god of dreams while Ancient Hebrews believed they were a connection to God.

In the Bible, Joseph interpreted the Egyptian Paraoh's dream and averted seven years of famine. Gilgamesh, one of the earliest known classical stories, accounted his dreams to his goddess mother. She interpreted those dreams and used them to guide him throughout his life. The Chinese believed that dreams were the spiritual soul leaving the body to communicate with the land of the dead. However, in Ancient Greece, Aristotle thought dreams were merely indicators of bodily condition and not divine inspiration.

Psychologists Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung had very different theories about dreams. Freud, a man who was rather sexual and ego-centric, believed dreams were based on feelings of the subconscious. For example, falling dreams are very common. Everyone has had a falling dream at least once. Freud believed if a woman had a falling dream, it symbolized her erotic temptation. He theorized it to be her surrender to a man and her need for comfort and security. Jung thought that dream content presented revelations to handling issues and fears.

There is also a matter of clairvoyance, or scientifically named Extra-Sensory Perception (ESP).

Clairvoyance: 1) the supernatural power of seeing objects or actions removed in space or time from natural viewing.
2) quick, intuitive knowledge of things and people, sagacity.
(www.dictionary.com)

Clairvoyance and ESP have often times been referred to as a sixth sense. It's almost like a psychic tendency, I suppose you could say. It sounds silly to say, and I hope I'm not alone, but have mildly experienced this "sixth sense." There are at least two situations that stand out to me. Allow me to elaborate.

A very close friend of mine whom I have grown up with joined the military at the end of summer 2007. He left for basic training and AIT in August and returned in December. It was a couple of days after he came back before I was finally able to see him. The night before our reunion, however, I had, hands down, the worst nightmare I have ever had in my life. In my dream, this friend had already been deployed to Iraq, killed in action, had a funeral service and buried. And I never got the opportunity to see him. In my dream, I was in complete denial about his death. I kept saying to everyone, "no, he's supposed to be coming home from basic training." When it finally hit me that he was gone, I fell on the floor and cried and cried and cried. When I woke up, I had tears rolling down my face, but the feeling of the dream was still there and I could still feel the pain. But it wasn't the pain that you would feel if someone close had really died. It was nothing I had ever experienced before. It was sort of a numbing pain in my chest, like it was coming from really deeply inside of me. It lasted for several minutes before wearing off.

Let me say, he did not die. Thank God. A couple of weeks later, I found out his girlfriend had cheated on him twice while he was away. He and I didn't talk much about his relationship at all so I didn't know how serious it was. From what a friend told me, it was a very serious relationship, and I knew from that just how heartbroken he must have felt. It hurt me that he was hurting. I thought about that disturbing dream (I think I thought about it nearly every day for a month) and wondered if perhaps it somehow forshadowed that event. Though he didn't die physically, he died emotionally. He was betrayed by someone he loved. That kills anyone. And me being cursed with extreme empathetic emotions, I was hurting for him.

The second experience is much more recent. As in, last night. It was also about this same friend. He is already deployed to Iraq and has been there since November. He is scheduled to go on leave next month for two weeks. (Holler!)

Last night, I dreamed that my friend was home on his leave. I found myself lying on a couch, wearing all black. And the lighting was rather dim and the color scheme was rather gray and hazy. My friend, also wearing all black, walked over to me and hugged me while I was lying on the couch. When he looked at me, he was sobbing uncontrollably and saying (I don't remember the exact words), "thank you, you have always been there for me." I can remember crying in my dream. In another segment of my dream, I was in an underground tunnel or hallway. It had stone walls which reminded me of an ancient castle or something. I came to a bend in the hallway and there was a candle, a yellow ribbon in the shape of a cross and a newspaper. I don't remember what the article in the newspaper said but I remember it was about my friend and I immediately felt extremely sad.

When I woke up this morning, I thought it was the strangest dream, but I didn't think too much about it. About an hour later, I talked to the same friend over the internet and I asked how he was doing. He said "not so good." When I asked him what was wrong, he told me that a buddy of his was killed on Sunday. My heart sank. No, it plummeted to the bottom of my chest. More than anything, I hate hearing about anybody in the military being killed. I told him that I really wanted to hug him, to which he replied, "I need one." I cried when I read that. (I'm not as emotional as I sound.) We didn't talk for very long because I had to go to work. As I was driving to work, I couldn't stop thinking about my friend and that soldier's family. And then the image of my friend crying in my dream popped into my head and I made a connection.

Does this sound like a "sixth sense" to anyone else or am I just some crazy person who needs to talk to a shrink? Has anyone else experienced something similar to this?

Saturday, 04 April 2009

What did I do wrong?

My friend, we'll call him D, and I have been friends since our sophomore year of high school. It wasn't until after we graduated that we actually started hanging out together outside of school. His house is actually a less than 5 minute drive from mine. But friends, that's all we've ever been. No benefits, no random making out, no hook ups. Just friends.

He joined the Marines about 6 months ago and, you know, being a good friend, I wrote to him while he was there to show my support. He came home in December but had to go back to Camp Lejeune in February for more MOS training then he was sent to Alabama for about a month. Just before he left in February, he sort of "hinted" that he had feelings for me but I quickly shot those down because that will never happen. We kept in touch while he was in Alabama and he told me he was being stationed in Japan for two years. Naturally, I was pissed as hell, especially because a week earlier I had found out that another friend of mine in the Marines had put in for a transfer and he was also being stationed in Japan in May.

D had ten days to spend at home before leaving for Japan. While he was home, he developed this habit of texting me or calling me at 2:30AM telling me he wants me to come over. 2:30AM. I don't know about you, but I'm sleeping at that hour. I saw him twice while he was home. I met him at the hookah bar and I went to his house the next night. When D and I hang out, it's usually at his house and I'm watching him play xBox or we find something on TV to watch. I was still jet lagged from my trip to Europe that I had just come home from less than a week before so I ended up falling asleep in his lap. It's whatever, you know. I fall asleep on his couch a lot.

It was after that night that he began texting me at 2:30 begging me to come over. He did that at least 3 or 4 nights in a row. Finally, I just got plain pissed off and put my foot down. I told him that he couldn't text me so late because I was sleeping. I told him to text me during daylight hours or at least, before, 11:30. His excuse was "I never know when you're working." I told him that it's okay to text me at work because I will respond. He literally stopped talking to me after that night. I texted him last night at work telling him I wanted to see him before he left for Japan and that I would stop by his house in the morning before work. He just said okay. Then I texted him later telling him when I got home from work and asked if he wanted me to come over and his response was "not right now." I never heard back from him. Well, today was the day he was to leave for Japan. I texted him this morning before work but I got nothing, so I went to work without seeing him. When I got off work today, I called his phone. When I talked to him, he said that he was leaving his house to go to the airport. I told him I had texted him this morning but he didn't answer. He didn't say anything for a minute and then he just said "I have to go. Bye." That was it. I didn't get to tell him goodbye.

His blowing me off, giving me the cold shoulder really hurt. We've been good friends for a while. We've been friends for nearly four years. Is that really all I get? D is not the kind of guy to, you know, get all emotional and open up and whatever but I thought I at least deserved to say goodbye to his face. Maybe...

Did I do something wrong?

Tuesday, 31 March 2009

What are 10 things you want to see, do, and/or experience in your lifetime?

These answers are in no particular order.

1) I want to move far away from North Carolina and start fresh in a new environment with new people, new sights and new situations. I want the complete, total independence that I passionately desire, that I crave, that I can nearly taste.

2) I want to find someone, not to tame me, but to run with me. Someone whose spirit is just as restless and unsettling as my own. Someone to love me as unconditionally as I want to love him.

3) I want to live in Prague for a year. And travel to Ireland, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Greece and Spain.

4) I want to do something dangerous and daring. Something nobody would ever dream of me doing. I want to shock the world.

5) I want to bungee jump. I want to ride a real bull. I want to sky dive, hang glide, parachute from an airplane.

6) I want to say what I feel without giving a shit what anybody else thinks.

7) I want to fall in love again. (Don't tell anybody)

8) I don't want to be afraid to fail and make mistakes.

9) I want to learn to not put my foot in my mouth so much.

10) When I speak, I want the world to stop and listen.

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