I attend Suny Cortland as well. I did not know Chelsea but I am definitely mourning the loss to our community. I just wanted to let you know that what you wrote is one of the most lovely pieces I have ever read.
Thank you very much… It’s just what I was feeling, you know? I’m sure you can relate. Our campus had a very awkward and heavy aura about it after her passing. It’s not something I’d particularly like to revisit.
Sometimes you just want to talk to talk. To hear others stories, to share your tribulations without comparison. Well, I must say It’s been hard. I’m left feeling like a washcloth emotionally wrung out with nothing left to drip, clipped to the clothesline where I’ll freeze in this chilling February.
This past weekend a girl on my campus took her own life. Damned if I don’t feel it through every inch of my being, or see her face when I’m walking about. Though I stand as just one number of this community of young men and women. Dare I venture to explain the unique and elaborate forms of mourning I’ve come to see this week?
College will make you an adult. In fact, she will stand on your chest and pour water across your face until you’re struggling with your nails digging at her feet. However, college socializes us into beings who know how to appropriately react. Our culture introduces us to the concept of community at so very young of an age that we’re able to develop into such organized groups almost as an instinct. We are a patchwork. A woven thread pulled, tightens its withheld fabric together consequently. When her thread was pulled from our fiber, the rest of us were inevitably drawn forth. As she was deeply woven into our community, the aftermath witnessed unification.
Like a wave upon rocks, I’m struck by the memories of a young man three years older than me committing suicide when my classmates and I were about the age of eighth grade. Though I did not know him, it undoubtedly affected me. My close friend was affected the most directly, and I tried to be everything for her. She needed more than that. I don’t believe I handled it right, because I still am haunted by her suffering. I am haunted and terrified by her threats and actions. I know that she still feels the pain of his loss every single day. Through her I’ve gotten to know him more than I ever knew him. Because a person is not meant to just die without leaving any footprint on this Earth, as much as one might hope for just that.
Through this event, I am awoken. We are mortal. To die is not a difficult feat, might I render it easy? To be determined is another matter. Was it destiny, or did we fail her? I want to say that no one is at fault. What could we have done? How? Why? Why is she gone? Why am I grieving? I wish it didn’t happen.
Today, our common vocabulary shies away from the word “death”. I can’t help it, I don’t want to ignore it any longer. May you rest peacefully, Chelsea. May your lifetime’s pain be not lost, but passed among and shared until it is exhausted out of this world and back unto Satan’s depths. I never knew you, but forever will we pray and keep you in our memories.
“Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swaps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it’s yours.”—Ayn Rand (via there-were-no-good-urls-left)
Missing Summer. Missing Spring. Missing warm seasons and lying with my back on plush grass. I’m anxious, but trapped. Months to go, and I hate when I get like this. It always happens, which is why I can’t ever pick a favorite season.