Grieving The Dead, And The Living

As I pulled up to the cemetery, I felt a sort of dread in the pit of my stomach. I hardly ever went there anymore. It was hard to. Losing my brother still weighs so heavily on my heart, even now. But I felt a little better about it this time because Eric would be there with me. I figured, at least I wouldn’t be alone.

I saw Eric ride up on his bike. I was happy to see him. I’d been wanting his company, and I thought he was happy to have my company too. Wishful thinking, I guess.

He leaned his bike up against my car and we walked up to the gravesite together.

I sat there, quiet. Reflecting. Grieving. Sitting in my brother’s company for the first time in a while, wishing he were here. But then I turned around and saw Eric standing several feet away from me, as if he were avoiding me…

At first I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t what it looked like, and that I was just misunderstanding things. But I wasn’t. Deep down, I knew that that was exactly what he was doing.

This was beyond just feeling awkward or not knowing what to do in a grieving situation; I knew very well what that looked like. This was straight up not caring.

I instantly started to feel uncomfortable. Still, I tried my best to turn the situation around.

I motioned at him to come sit with me, and he did. I talked a bit, mindlessly. Just kind of processing my thoughts out loud. He responded with all the “right” things to say. But something about the tone of his voice when he spoke didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel authentic. It felt cold and robotic. And he kept acting like that towards me the rest of the time, like he'd rather be anywhere but there with me.

I started to wish I’d just gone there alone.

We sat there quietly for a while longer. And without even realizing it, I kind of shut off my own emotions. All I could do was zone out and try to bury my feelings. Losing my brother was the most traumatic thing I’d ever gone through. And Eric just sat there and coldly watched as I was immersed in my pain.

And that’s when I realized how in denial I was. I had been for a long time. But at that point I couldn’t deny it anymore. The truth was staring me right in the face. I was finally starting to understand that I hadn’t fallen in love with him. Just the façade he presented to the world. The ideal version of him that I had in my head.

But now his mask had fallen away, along with my rose-colored glasses. I saw him for who he really was, and that he would never be the person I thought he was or wanted him to be.

Eventually, we both got up to leave. It was sad how relieved I was, but I just wanted to get away from him at that point. We said goodbye and I watched him ride away on his bike as I got back into my car.

I kept thinking about how dumb I’d been to expect any kind of emotional support from him. I felt embarrassed, ashamed, betrayed, and angry. I even somewhat resented him. I wondered why he even came there with me in the first place. He could’ve easily said no when I asked. Why didn’t he?

But in that moment, I could finally grieve. Not only for my brother, but for Eric too. For the love I had for him, and for the person I thought he was.

And that’s when I finally let out all the emotions I’d been holding back, and I began to cry.