I’ve written about him in the past. I don’t want to dwell on all the details. He was someone important to me, and he died of an overdose.
I’ve been trying to let him go for 2 years now. I can’t seem to shake it. But I realized 2 things:
I have survivor’s guilt. He died, while I am living on and getting clean. Part of me thinks that I am unworthy. I should have been the one who died. He should be here and getting his life together. I know that is crazy. It’s a feeling I need to overcome.
I never really mourned him. I’ve been sad. But I didn’t go to the funeral. I couldn’t get together with old mutual friends to send him off. I never got closure. I need that.
So indulge me. I’ve planned a little celebration of his life. None of this will make any sense to anyone but me. But I think it will help. This thread is my memorial to him.
Remember my 40th birthday? I remember spending it together. We hadn’t known each other long. I had already told you I loved you the first time. I felt so silly. You hadn’t said it back to me yet. But you didn’t make me feel uncomfortable about it.
You gave me that Dolly Parton book. I think you bought it used at a thrift store or something. I had mentioned once, the day we first met, that I loved Dolly Parton, and you remembered and gave me that book.
I still have that book. It will always be a treasured possession of mine. It is the only thing I have that came from you.
The lyrics to this song remind me of you.
Bittersweet
Memories
That is all I’m taking with me
So goodbye
Please don’t cry
We both know I’m not what you
You need
And I
Will always love you
You were so handsome. You never saw it, but I did.
I look at pictures of you now and I can see the drug use had taken its toll. You were just 36. You weren’t kind to that body of yours. But you were still one of the most handsome men I ever knew.
You had a sense of morality. I always admired that.
We had long talks about right and wrong. About how you didn’t think I should live the life of dishonesty that I had been living. You had an influence on me. I respected what you told me. I always wanted to live up to what you wanted for me.
You were so happy.
Always with a smile on your face. Was that just for me, or did you always have that? You didn’t live in great circumstances. The drugs took a lot of opportunities and much of your potential success away from you. I remember one day I was complaining and whining a lot. You just snapped at me: “Would you quit feeling sorry for yourself!”
You were right. I’m still working on that, but I thank you for being honest with me in that moment.
Remember this song? Remember what you said to me when this came on the radio?
“This is gonna be you later.”
We laughed. I got crazy when we partied. You had to stay more sober than you otherwise probably would have just so you could take care of me. You did take care of me.
Remember the time I was so high I couldn’t drive safely, but I needed to go back home? You talked me through it. You convinced me not to leave until I came down a little. We went to that McDonald’s near the motel we stayed at the night before. That thing I wanted to do was eat, but you convinced me I would feel better.
You always looked out for me and tried to guard me against the bad decisions I make when I am high. I always admired how, despite how deep you were into drugs, you had your head on straight in ways that I didn’t.
I listened to the lyrics of this song and thought about you. I thought about what you told me: “This is gonna be you later.”
Yeah.
And I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down won’t open my eyes
Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I’m just holding on for tonight
Help me, I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down won’t open my eyes
Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I’m just holding on for tonight
Remember the time you told me you had overdosed. Your mom had to call 911 and, thankfully, the paramedics got there in time to save you.
You told me and kind of laughed. I was mortified. I could see the future at that point. I knew how this was going to end.
I wish I had asked you to quit using. It wouldn’t have made a difference, probably. What if it had? Was there anything I could have done.
I don’t think there was. But maybe I am just telling myself that so I can sleep at night.
Months later, we talked more seriously about it. I told you I was scared you were going to die. I told you that I was scared that you would go and I wouldn’t know about it because no one knew how much you meant to me and wouldn’t think to call.
We talked about that Robert Frost poem, “Nothing Gold Can Stay.”
I told you that you were the gold in my life, and that I didn’t want you to go. But nothing gold can stay.
God damn it. I fucking love you. Why can’t you still be here? Why did it have to end?
Why couldn’t I have spent those last months with you? Why couldn’t I have been there to hold you when you took your last breath?
Who were you with? I didn’t recognize the address from the police report on your death. Was it just a grindr hookup? Was it a good friend? I hope your last days were happy. I hope you didn’t suffer too much.
If you have any say in what is going on wherever you are now, please look over me. Please be there if you can.
I will never live a moment without a piece of you in my heart.
Please be my strength on days when I am weak. I will do my best to stay clean even though you couldn’t. I know if you could make that decision for me, that is what you would have done.
I will always love you. But now is when I must say goodbye and go on with my life.
Oh Patrick, you always get me right in my heart strings unexpectedly! This is beautiful and it’s awakened something in myself too about an ex of mine that overdosed on heroin and I never got closure either. So I’m over here in tears with you as I read this. Hugs!
I’m sorry that you lost someone to that epidemic too. It seems like it is everywhere.
I’ve been trying to find a way to get past losing my Robert. It is so hard when it was such an unconventional relationship and the traditional avenues of mourning aren’t available to me.
I just thought, I can have my own damn funeral if I want. It was a cathartic experience thinking about how to celebrate his life appropriately. I feel like it was a good thing for me to do.
I wish I could do more. He is survived by his sister and has nieces and nephews. I’d love to be able to send gifts to the kids since he can’t be the uncle that spoils them. I reached out to his sister to see if she would talk to me, but she has never responded. I don’t think that will probably be in the cards, unfortunately.
You absolutely can do your own thing and it was sweet of you to reach out to his sister! Even if nothing comes from it, your heart is always in the right place.
I hadn’t talked to my ex in a decade or so. We were best friends for years but once we decided to cross the lines everything changed so we weren’t together long as he got crazy jealous and insecure right off but we stayed friends after and had absolutely nothing but love for eachother. We always connected super well, his birthday was 2 days after mine-we were soooo much alike it was crazy. My ex who I was with for 15 years wasn’t ok with us keeping in contact too much because he was jealous of that connection. We kind of went our own ways as I raised my boy and he did his thing, in his last years he had moved and joined a carnival circuit out of state. We said hi on occasions but I really had no idea what was going on in his life until it was too late. His sister was arranging for him to come back home and we were going to reconnect then again but he decided he wanted to use one last time before he came home and in the end he went home to heaven instead with that last hoorah. Many of us have never recovered from this loss.
It’s crazy but I feel him around me at times. I have a few psychic friends and one of them one day said I have one of your ex’s here (I’ve had 3 pass) and I knew immediately who it was before she spoke again. Then said she saw a ring-which we traded back and forth that I has forgotten about. She mentioned singing in the car, blasting music and driving around as we did that a lot. She mentioned sitting on the bridge looking over the edge together and us walking on railroad tracks. Then she said holy shit, do you actually TALK to him? Like, out loud? Because he says he hears you and you know when he’s there. He wants you to know he stuck with music and even sang in a band for a while, but he loves listening to you sing still. All of that stuff is specific stuff that she never could have ever known on her own, I didn’t even know her back then. Sometimes connections go beyond the grave and even if they aren’t here with us how we would like, I personally believe they still don’t really leave us. I’m a fruitcake sometimes but I really feel like he is with you and watches out for you just like my friend does. Hugs!
This is beautiful and it’s awakened something in myself too about an ex of mine that overdosed on heroin and I never got closure either. So I’m over here in tears with you as I read this. Hugs!