Some days I tiptoe around, hoping with every fiber in my body that today isn't the day for an emotional breakdown. They always hit hard and I'm never fully prepared for them. Lately, I generally get a decent heads up, but still it can come out of blue. When I hear a voice or laughter that sounds like theirs. Or unintentionally, I do something I once did with them. Others times, I will intentionally visit a location we'd frequent. Usually I go to those places in attempt to remember them more vividly and to give myself space to feel deeply, grieving. The most common thing these days that triggers these grief-filled emotional breakdowns are dreams. Not hazy ones, but the kind that are so real you can smell them, feel their hugs, and see the sparkle in their eyes.

A month ago, I had one about Hosanna. It wasn't pleasant and I woke up feeling overwhelmed with guilt. I hadn't been very intentional in communicating during her last year on earth. We interacted a few times via text and it was all pretty brief. I cannot begin to express how desperately I ache to go back to Spring of 2016 and redo those moments. Just to hold her face in my hands and tell her how much her lovely soul has impacted my life. I just would want her to know that: how important she was to this world... To me. I laid in bed for an hour that morning and cried and played some of her favorites tunes.

A couple of days ago I was at my church, worshiping and singing loudly. I felt Holy Spirit ask me to go dance in the back. I argued, "No, I really don't want to. I told you a couple of summers ago that I'm done with that." But the pressing grew stronger. So I went to the back and danced. The first minute or so was awkward, and I was all too aware of the two people who had noticed and were staring. Out of nowhere, I got the feeling that Terrell was with me, bouncing back and forth, laughing. Hot tears began to stream down my face. It didn't matter. I kept dancing. And I'll be honest with you, I kept dancing in hopes that I would somehow be able to "feel" Terrell there longer. I didn't do it for Jesus. It was "selfish", and I still don't care.

My reactions to these moments of grief are an indication of progress. They're healthy for me and my process of healing. This is the most joyful I've been since I was robbed of two incredibly beautiful friends. Two of the most beautiful humans I'll ever have the privilege of knowing. It may not sound very healthy or healing to you. But for the sake of perspective, let me take you back to January...

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It was New Year's Eve 2016- I had driven down to KC to spend the normally fun and exciting holiday with my best friend, her fiance, and our friend group. I saw a couple of my other close friends during this quick trip as well. But I didn't feel much. I don't think I even laughed. At the last minute, I decided to attend this huge Christian conference that took place downtown KC but I was pissed the whole time. I was mad at God and I wasn't in a stable spot mentally. As luck would have it, I ran into a guy who had hurt me in many ways a year or so prior. We hadn't really talked since the situation happened and I was more than okay with that. He went to give me a hug and instinctively I drew back a fist, nearly punching him. I caught myself and ran out of the massive building, into an alley where I fell to my knees and burst into tears. I drove to my best friend's apartment for the lovely party she was hosting... And I drank. A lot. Then I got into an argument with three of my friends. I was a mess. Hope walked out and slammed the door and while I wasn't looking, apathy snuck in. Apathy and I began our friendship that night. For a few moments, a few times that night, I contemplated my options. Randomly, an ex boyfriend from high school called me and I listened to him share some hard stuff about his family for a couple of hours. All I kept thinking was that he had no idea how broken I was and that I was glad for the distraction. It was utterly selfish and I didn't care.

Fast forward a month- more hurt from others and more hurt done to others. I was drinking far more than I should have and (can you guess?) I didn't care. My coworkers and an almost boyfriend in Colorado were my rock and source of sanity at this time. The guy in Colorado (lets call him Shawn) would call or Skype me several times a week, while we texted off and on each day. We'd usually fall asleep while talking to each other, be it on the computer or on the phone. He'd call me when I'd drive around the quiet city late at night, he'd talk me down from the heightened emotions I'd get slammed with. We carry on about our mutual love for La La Land, discuss our opinions on politics, banter back and forth, and share our goals and dreams. At that point, he would send me links to the houses he was looking at buying. We told each other of the silly and mundane daily deets and always made each other laugh. He decided back in the Fall that he would fly out for my birthday in February and we were counting down the days with great anticipation. I adopted a cat that Shawn helped me pick out via facetime. His visit for a few days was wonderful and the best gift. I saw him again a couple of months later and we talked about officially dating. He and I made dinner for his parents one evening and as we sat on their deck, he told me that I was it for him- endgame. It felt like finally something truly good was happening. The boy I had been in love with since 10th grade wanted me by his side, as more than just his best friend (the role I filled since we were 15). He brought fun, giggles and peace to my life in new ways and I was on Cloud Nine.

On May 10th, a dear friend of mine was shot and killed by cops in Portland, OR. I had known him well over the past few years from our time at an organization in KC. I honestly don't even remember how I found out about Terrell's tragic death... If someone called me or if I saw it on social media. All I remember is that I ran to the bathroom and threw up. I remember calling Shawn and barely being able to get out my words. I remember calling another friend and the two of us just cried on the phone together. My buddy said a couple of people from KC (who were the closest to Terrell) were going to Portland for the memorial service. I knew I needed to go. So I went. The five of us drove 32 hours straight to Oregon. It was a gorgeous, heavy city. Yet my vision felt foggy, distant... Except for the pain. At one point on the trip, I had the most intense panic attack I've ever experienced. I spiraled down even further and that with the combination of a few other things, I made the choice to move back to Colorado- my home state- at the end of June.

Naturally, with the move, came the big DTR with Shawn... I went into the conversation foreseeing that we'd make things official. Yet... He ended up saying was that he "was expecting us to make things official as well but felt unsure all of the sudden". Following that was a month and a half of mixed signals and him going back and forth on what he wanted. He would ignore me for a week and then ask to hang out. We talked again and this time he told me he had gone out with someone else but was "emotionally confused" regarding his feelings for her. A week later, they were dating.

It was the second week of August and something in me snapped. Lies had been revealed. A couple more close relationships suddenly severed. I became a person I didn't recognize. I think I was trying to create some sort of control and I sought revenge like it was my only way of breathing. I met with Shawn and walked him through the past year, the way he had pursued me, and the relational whiplash. I presented my perspective. And ya know what? He owned all of it. He couldn't explain his side of the story and continued to say he "didn't know why things changed". I told Shawn I didn't predict we'd ever be friends again, that this was it. He seemed confused and hurt by that... He told me he thought that after all we'd been through the past 8 years, that we could still be the kind of friends who get coffee every now and then and catch up. I sarcastically laughed to his face. We talked for another hour and I felt a deep twinge in my heart. Somehow we both managed to leave the conversation without hostility and I told Shawn and our friendship goodbye. Something we had pinky promised as young teens to never do. A promise we had kept until now.

More lies and hurtful words from Shawn came forth as the week progressed and I was even more convinced that mending things would not ever be possible. Once again, I was left shattered and grieving. It felt like all of my organs had been torn out. In a lot of ways, I guess I lost 3 friends this year.

The holidays are approaching more quickly than I'd like. Hosanna's departing date is coming soon... I'm not ready. I'm scared because with anniversaries, come more raw emotions. Can I say something else honestly? At this point, I don't know whats next. I have this weird, intuitive-like feeling that I am about to lose someone else I dearly love. I hate it and I don't know if its real or just fear. Most days, I am able to hold onto hope. As I continue to say "yes" to the day, to waking up, to keep living; its the tiniest of fractions easier to exist. But every few weeks or so, the pain is so severe, I feel like I'm suffocating.

 Grief, you are so messy. I am learning about you and how to process you with joy. That's part 2...

'Til then,

yours truly