Continuing with the Steven story
Monday, Jan. 26, 2004 at 8:31 P.M.
So, Steven was missing, there was nothing to do but wait for news. As I said, everyday, my stomach turned as I waited for him to show up.
I couldn�t talk about it. I didn�t talk much actually. I remember many a night sitting in the company of my friends, just staring, barely moving. I feared that to open my mouth was to welcome more grief. Or tears. Or both. No one understood. How could they?
I do feel bad for the people who surrounded me at the time. Not many of them knew what was going on, and my sudden tendency to shed tears with no warning must have been unsettling. I was constantly nervous and continued to lose weight until it became apparent there was something terribly wrong. It�s not that I wasn�t eating, I was eating a lot actually, like I always do in times of stress. But it is amazing what surviving on endorphins and adrenaline will do. A weight loss technique I hope to never employ again. I recall vividly my mother�s outcry when she began to notice the change in my physique. �Now don�t you go start being anorexic, I can�t handle that�. She is not a selfish woman, just unable to deal with life it seems.
But enough about my reaction. I can hardly imagine his family�s pain. Even to this day I do not know how they deal with it. Rachel also was in much pain. She kept her grief to herself under unimaginable pressure. Can you believe that people actually spread rumors that she murdered him? That she chopped him up and buried him or stuck him in a freezer. People are so stupid. And our good friend Gethin, my playmate since preschool, and Steven�s closest friend; we never spoke much about it all until I had a chance to visit with him this summer. It was almost a relief to talk with someone whose grief has mirrored mine.
Anyway, that summer, I continued with my plan to move back to my island. Even though Steven wasn�t there I had no other plan, and I think somehow I imagined he�d show up once I was there. Being separated from it by distance was one thing. Being right in the middle was another. Everywhere I turned there was something that reminded me of him. A song, his family, Rachel, his picture posted on the bulletin boards of every local grocery store. I couldn�t turn around without being slammed in the gut with the reality of it all.
And then there were the parents. Rachel�s parents, out of concern for her tried to use me as a barometer for what was going on with their daughter. She never spoke to them about it. She never cried. So I was asked how she was doing, if she was ok. Gethin�s parent�s (my surrogate parents) did the same. �How is he doing? Is he dealing with this ok?�. Other friends� parents as well. The put the pressure on me of assuring them that everything was ok, that their child was fine, that they were �dealing� with everything just fine.
And then just a few people, realized my position. Cecily was the first to bring it up. She being the in-tune person that she is, asked me how I was doing. She told me that even though Steven had been dating Rachel at the time, she had always thought that he and I were meant to be together and that it was only a matter of time. And then all of this happened, and she was the first to recognize my unique grief. The pain that I really had no place in voicing.
Later on, Rachel surprised me with the same sentiment. After I moved back, she and I spent a lot of time together, and one day as we were driving along, she told me that she had always felt like she was with Steven only until I would be around. She felt that I was really the one he should have been with. She felt that even his family thought that I was the one for him. And as sad as that was for her, it was a great relief to me, to know that my hopes and dreams had not been unfounded.
After two months on my island I had failed to secure work, or a plan really of what I was going to do, so I left my beloved island behind and moved back with my parents to try to figure out what to do next.
What does one do after their life has been shattered beyond repair?
bEfOrE ~ AftEr
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