Loss of a Friend – It Does Get Easier

Death is a cold, cruel reality that we as humans cannot avoid.

Everyone is born, and everyone will die. Most people hope to pass easily in their sleep of old age, while others hope to go out in a ball of fire.

Death effects everyone in its path leaving a trail of sadness in its wake. It almost doesn’t seem fair that our loved ones could be gone and free of the burdens of this world while we’re left here attempting to pick up the pieces and glue ourselves back together.

I can personally say that it never gets better. You will never forget your loved one or the memories you have of them – good and bad. You’ll always feel a twinge of pain when you think back on them.

However, it does get easier to wake up and function every day. You learn to cope, and I can attest to that. Six years ago, I lost my two best friends in the same moment and my view on the world changed drastically.

Flashback to 2011 and I was a freshman in high school.

I was nervous and alone when I met Bobby and Dakota, but they quickly became two of the most important people ever to enter my life. I was awkward and not keen to making friends, so I valued them more than I think they ever knew for approaching and befriending me.

Dakota eventually asked me to be his girlfriend. I had just recently broken up with his friend. He had also gone through a rough breakup, so I think we confided in each other and relied on one another.

Three days later, the accident happened.

We had been together at a ball game – me watching the game and the two of them running the concession stand. Once the game ended, we raced up through the parking lot to Bobby’s Jeep and my mother’s car. We said our goodbyes, agreed to meet the next morning before class, and they promised to text me when they got home safe.

I got to my grandmothers where I’d be staying for the night and got myself ready for bed, waiting on their text. When it never came, I assumed they had simply gotten home tired and went to sleep, so I texted both of them that I’d see them tomorrow.

I didn’t know how wrong I was at the time or that the next time I’d see them would be a week later in a casket.

I turned out my light and curled under the blankets, teetering on the edge of sleep before I heard the knock at the front door of my grandmothers. My ears perked up at the sound of my grandmother waking up and slinking to the door to see who was knocking at 11 o’clock at night.

Once I overheard my parents’ voices whispering from the living room, I sat up at full attention. My mom and dad entered the back bedroom that I had been sleeping in and sat down on the bed silently.

Dread filled me because I somehow knew something horrible had taken place.

My fears were confirmed when my dad said, “There was an accident”. The first words from my mouth were questioning if they were okay.

A choked 'no' came from my father; mom still staring down with tears in her eyes.

A scream came from me, and I bolted from bed and out the front door. My eyes were wet, and I couldn’t see, but I needed to get away. I called Dakota’s ex-girlfriend, our mutual friends, anyone I felt needed to know.

I spent the next week in bed, skipping class, barely eating, and not sleeping. I returned to school shut off from everyone, just aware enough to make it through the day and back home.

I wouldn’t find out until later what the actual cause of the accident was or how they actually died.

Bobby had been speeding, as he often did, while taking Dakota home from the game. As they entered a curve, the tire left the road. The police believe that Bobby jerked in an attempt to regain control which led to the vehicle flipping down the hill into the tree that stopped them. Both were dead on arrival due to head injuries from the crash.

I often recall the sneaky kisses that Dakota and I shared in the band hallway and the way he held me during the football games on his frequent breaks from the concession stand.

I think back to Bobby and all the things he was known for. He was lead tuba in the band, and he was far from shy. He liked to wear his kilt to school, and he told it how it was with no fear. Bobby was one of a kind, and Dakota was genuinely a good soul.

I wish I could pick up a phone and dial Bobby like I so often did after school. I wish I could walk down that school hallway with them both just one more time. I wish I had had the chance to say my goodbyes or get a photo for memories or wrap my arms around them once more.

I’d turn back the clock in an instant if I knew that I’d have the chance to tell them all the things I never got to say. They had dreams and goals like anyone else. They hadn’t had the opportunity to really live or see the world before they were taken.

It hit me recently that I’m older than either of them was. I’ve lived to see 21 years old, and they didn’t.

It doesn’t seem fair, but seeing as it can’t be changed, I’ve learned to take nothing for granted because tomorrow is no promise for anyone.

I used to talk to the sky as a coping mechanism, pretending that they could hear me. Now, I wake up and can say that they aren’t the first thing on my mind, and I rarely cry anymore. I do, however, think of them at least once every day in some way or another.

I hear songs that remind me of them or someone will mention their names, and the memories come flooding back to me.

I don’t want to forget – ever. I want to feel the pain because it means that I remember them.

It means they existed.

They were real, and our friendship was real. My story is a lesson that time truly does heal all wounds.

When a hole in your heart heals, a scar remains. The pain is gone, but you will always remember it by the mark that was left behind.

Losing someone is scary and quite possibly one of the hardest things that someone could ever go through. Dying is undeniably scary, watching someone you love wither away is petrifying, but knowing you’ll have to live without someone who means the world to you without being able to tell them goodbye – that’s earth-shatteringly terrifying. All we can do is accept the ways of life and death while cherishing the moments and people that we’ve been blessed with.