Let it Be

I was watching a show about coral reefs and all of the life that is as yet undiscovered and, as almost everything startling beautiful and full of life seems to do, it reminded me of Eric and I felt that familiar ache in my chest. Does grief actually make your heart physically hurt, or is it just a psychological thing from centuries of association between feelings and the organ that pumps our blood? I miss him so much. I wish there was a more intense version of the word miss, because it seems strange to use the same word for Eric that I use for a friend I haven't seem for a bit or an ex-boyfriend. Every so often I have a dream of him where he's alive and I hug him and I tell him how much I love him, how much I've missed him, where has he been because he should be with us still. I've been spending time lately with that group of friends, I couldn't for a while because it made me feel his absence too much, and we don't really talk about him but I can feel his spirit, his sense of humor, his heart, coming through everyone.

Sometimes when the hurt is particularly bad I ask "When will this pain ever lessen, when will I ever not feel this hurt so intensely?" But I know I'm hanging on to the hurt because it seems like all I have of him. Three and a half years, and even though I can still remember him so well I know that years down the road I won't be able to and it makes me panicky. So I hold on to the hurt, because then I can at least feel something about him sharply.

The thing with Eric though, and this is what has changed me, he laughed at everyone but he loved everyone too. He would make fun of someone and be silly, but then he would love them. And we all loved him. I have some moments I've froze in my mind- once I saw him at the ferry terminal, he was getting his bike and I was just getting home from working in Seattle, and he said hi and told me I looked really good. It's almost silly, but it's just a snapshot of who he was. He was, like the coral reef, startlingly beautiful and full of life. I loved him from the moment I met him. It was backstage at Oliver, he was doing the lights, and he ran across the room like a raptor and I loved him. And I was lucky enough that I got to be on the receiving end of his love, even though it was only 9th grade. And Prom was and still is special to me, not because it was the end of senior year or anything typical like that, but because I was with Eric and I kissed him in the car and held his hand and danced with him and it wasn't romantic, it was this pure kind of love that emanated from Eric and all of his friends got to experience.

Grief is like waves, or a gong someone hits that reverberates through your body. It hurts, then the pain recedes a bit then all of a sudden it hits you again right in the face and you're left choking and gasping for air. I can't really breathe right now, and the next few days will be hard, but then it will get better for a while. Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.