someone special

I remember saying to Evan when I met Bruce, “I think I met someone really special.” 

He replied to me, “Maybe you did. I hope you realize you deserve someone special... Emily, you are special.” 

I was thinking about those words this past week and how I miss his wisdom. When Bruce decided it wasn’t good timing I cried to Evan. He reminded me that what’s meant to be will work it’s way out and if Bruce couldn’t really see me for all that I am, then it was his loss.

Evan was a sounding board for me. I loved him that way. He was always honest and sincere. Even when I couldn’t see clearly, his words would shine a light through the fog and I could find my way home. 

When he died I felt like a piece of me died. We were close and our friendship was real. Nobody really knew except a few of his friends. His opinions mattered to me and he always had a perspective that could challenge mine. He forced me to grow in many ways. Outside of who I was and who I thought I needed to be. 

I remember the day I was told he died. How my world just felt shattered. Reflecting on it it reminds me of those old movies where a captain or Sargent delivers the news to a wife waiting at home for her husband to return from war. The officer walks up the stairs and knocks on the door, when the wife sees who it is she crumbles and collapses in grief. When my friend told me that he passed the day before, I just fell to the pavement. Sobbing, crushed...Like every bit of me was breaking and it felt so unfair because I thought he was just busy and not responding to my messages, when in reality he’d been sick. When I finally spoke to his parents and I was told he called out to me before he slipped into a coma felt beyond devastating. His parents didn’t know me very well and it wasn’t until he died that they pieced it together. I would have been there had I known and I think that’s the part I still really struggle with. Evan and I were never romantic, but he was certainly a counterpoint and one of the most important people in my life. When I went through my divorce he helped pick me up off the floor... quite literally. I loved Evan, probably even more than I realized. When he was gone so suddenly, without an opportunity for me to say goodbye, it cut a big hole in my heart. 

I feel like I still feel his presence sometimes, and he’s laughing at me because Bruce came back into my life and he told me how if it was really someone special they would. That sometimes time just needs to pass, perspectives need to shift. 

I feel lucky that I knew Evan. He was an amazing human. Probably one of the best I’ve ever known. Missing him still hurts and I find myself reaching for my phone sometimes and wanting to message him and say, “you were right, you were right!” But then the stark reality hits and I’m reminded that is no longer possible. However, I will always carry him in my heart, and he may not be here in a way that I recognize anymore, but his energy still flows through me. Through that I can remain close to him, it’s just on a different level now and I’m working to be alright with that. Because everything that will be, will be. 

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Diabetes Dreaming - Pump Challenge

I have lots of weird abstract dreams on a daily basis...

Last night I dreamt that my insulin pump came out and  I kept trying to reinsert it and it would go in my skin, but then the tubing would detach. I was flipping out and screaming for help, cause I knew I would die without insulin, however everyone ignored me and wouldn't stop and help me figure out why the tubing was detaching. Finally after about 12 tries of stabbing it in my thigh, side, and stomach and saying I needed to go to the emergency room I inserted it in my inner thigh. I thought it was fixed, but I touched the tube and it fell away
and started gushing blood. Like when they take an iv out and the blood force is so strong it just like sprays in out of a stream from your vein. I thought I was going to die, but John finally came and helped. Kissed away my tears.

I woke up. Didn't fully remember the dream until I was driving into work. I thought it was odd though. I guess I am a little odd. :p

October 17, 2008

My mind is a scary place to wander through... found an old dream I wrote down:

The world was falling apart. Bright beams of white light echoed through the atmosphere, bringing forth the impending doom. I was frightened. The earth already looked like a casket. How could all this lay on my shoulders?

I took a sip of cool water from the fountain. It tasted metallic and ashy. Myself and my family hurried across the pile of dead bodies to a Radisson Hotel across the street. There were many holed up in the hotel already, utilizing it as a fortress. I hung back at the door a moment after we were permitted through, surveying the damage outside. The bleakness overcame me. We were all doomed.

There were groups of people huddled together. A larger gathering of people near the check in desk were quietly discussing options. They had already tried reasoning, offering, begging… all had resulted in a great deal of casualties. They wanted something else from us, our souls.

There was the chosen child. A young girl around the age of 5. Somehow it had been decided that she was our only hope. Her skin was pale white, with dark chestnut curls and eyes like pools of mud. She was crying because she didn’t know if she could really help us. All of a sudden she was teleported away to safety where she would develop a solution for us in the next few hours. My mind wandered. But I found I could speak to her through my mind if I concentrated.

The walls in the hotel had holes that seemed to pulse and I knew if I touched them I would be burned. I watched out the front windows on to the street where people were being annihilated by the white light which was severing their limbs then frying them to a crisp. Their screams sounded muffled and distant, but ever present.

I ventured upstairs to find my father. He said that my sisters had already been taken from the destruction with my mother. I wondered why I had to stay behind, but he said we would figure out how to conquor this, but that I had every right to be terrified.

Suddenly the child spoke to me. Told me that our salvation rested in a concoction of orange tic-tacs, graphite rocks, opal stone, and milk. My father and I found the supplies and mixed each potion together in little pink Dixie cups. However, we were only able to make enough for about ½ the population. It looked gross. Like gray rock vomit with splotches of orange.

I put the cup to my lips and drank the mixture, only to wake up in my bed a few moments later screaming….