Days like these

Nobody told me there would be days when the sun stays in bed. Wakes up, sure, but pulls the covers far overhead to keep the waking from overcoming the sleeping, too quickly. Days where the grey wind makes its way down wide city streets, pushing hearty cyclists either forward or back and bundled-up pedestrians deeper into their winter puffies, muted tones moving along like leaves on a mission.

Of course, this would be the day I return to the Windy City - this the day I stand with others grasping for our best memories of our best friend. The last time I was here, more than a year ago, was for a wedding. This time, of course, a funeral. Surprisingly, in one week, my heart hasn't stopped hurting; this void a new, tangible addition to my day-to-day.

The nature of my grief manifests itself as the pain of my cracked ribs, cracked from the car crash I lived through the day before I learned my friend had died. I can't inhale deeply without pain radiating across the left side of my body and down to my elbow. Which is poor timing, as I would like to be able to inhale to fuel the sobbing I occasionally give in to. But my heart hurts; why shouldn't my ribs hurt, as well?

I don't know how to process this type of grief. I know broken hearts, but those crimes' perpetrators still live on, somewhere, oblivious to the small scars they caused. This is a different beast, altogether. This brokenness won't be salved by online creeping and reassurances that his new woman isn't really all that attractive. For heartaches past, I've numbed the pain with sugar, caffeine, exercise, cigarettes, whiskey, repeat. But I'm learning that self-medication isn't the best option for me. I haven't had a cigarette in nearly 10 years, and I can't hold my liquor like I used to (nor do I want to). Caffeine makes me anxious and shaky, and while I still run and love it, that whole rib thing. My fail safes have failed for now, and I'm left questioning best next steps in light of these considerations.

Will your memorial service bring some solace or only more pain? I'll know one way or the other, in a few hours. For now, I'm so nervous and so close to my edge. And I stupidly put on mascara this morning. At least some bit of me will be running today.

My dear friend - thank you for being a part of my world, however briefly. Thank you for all you brought to this world and the impact you had on everyone you met. My heart breaks further to think that you didn't know how deeply you were loved by so many. But I pray that you've found some relief, wherever you may be. And I know you'll always be with me in some way, riding on that wind and pushing me to adventure and release of inhibitions. You're totally right - they're not always a good thing.

I love you; I'll miss you; I wish I could have said goodbye.