Baby.

One of those days in the hospital (I don't remember which), I was sitting in the waiting room near Micah's room when a woman came in with a baby. She ended up putting it in my arms to hold for several minutes. The baby lay face up in my lap, looking at me with big eyes and staring up at my face, fixated and intrigued. I stared back and hugged it close, smiling through my tears; wondering how a new life could still be growing up, while Micah was slowly losing his, only yards away.

This memory popped into my head today as I walked past a group of children playing. It reminded me of how Micah always told me I'd make a great mom some day.

I hope that baby has grown up well over these past 5 months. I wonder if it'll ever know that it brought me even the slightest bit of joy during a miserable and painful time.

I am doing things here at college to make Micah happy. I joined an intramural soccer team, which he would love. I am going to maybe join a gospel choir. I went swing dancing in the rain. I salsa danced with friends late into midnight. I stargazed on a blanket until the sprinklers came on and we ran away. I made cookies and delivered them to people. I am going to quilt with cute old ladies, and learn how to knit. I am writing for the newspaper. I am greeting people in Micah-like ways, wearing outfits Micah would like, eating food Micah would eat, telling jokes Micah would tell, getting involved like Micah would do, saying phrases Micah would say...sometimes I even catch myself writing in Micah-like handwriting.

Micah can't be at college, but I will be at college for him. I can feel him here cheering me on and telling me to live fully. I can feel the warmth of his hugs and hear the sound of his voice. I can imagine the sun lighting up his green eyes and him throwing back his head as he laughs.

All these things carry me on from one day to the next. My goal for this year is to live for Micah and love for Micah, because that is how he remains a part of me, strong in my heart.

College.

Well, here I am. After years and years of wondering what college will be like, here I sit in the dark of my dorm, feeling somewhat tiny and lost, realizing I could never even imagine I would be here amidst such a situation.

Where did summer go? What happened to flowers and bare feet and warmth? What happened to those long days of misery, but at least misery accompanied by friends, family, and sunshine?

How will I survive as the seasons change? It used to just get warmer and warmer as each anniversary went by, but now the leaves are changing and the air is getting crisp. Will I too freeze into a rock of a Becca-that-used-to-be? Will I ever be able to feel normal enough to laugh freely like the rest of the students here? Will I survive the ugly cold to come? How long can I stay in a place where no one knows the warmth of my beautiful, lovable Micah?

I want everyone to know him, but know him just because its Micah. Not because he died. I just want him to be my boyfriend. And like the other girls here who have boyfriends far away, I want him to call me every night and send me letters and skype me and tell me about his soccer game and newly-found friends...
I want to see his dorm room and his sloppily-made bed and his handwriting on (probably procrastinated) essays. I want to talk to him and complain about homework together and tell him I had a bad day so he can make it better.

I'm tired of being the girl who has to explain to innocent bystanders that, yes, that is my boyfriend and I love him so incredibly much, but no, its a long story because this April he...he...well, he died in a car accident...and...(tries to suppress tears as the person's mouth drops open and attempts to find words of sympathy.)

It's so so so so unfair.
5 months coming up. I don't know what I'm going to do.

My boyfriend is dead and 9 hours away. What if he needs my comfort? What if he needs me but I'm so far away? Who will sit with him and pretend to hold his hand? Even the seasons will change by his side, but I cannot be there to watch them.

I'm being brave and having fun, because Micah would have wanted that for me, but when it comes down to it I'm still so heartbroken and devastated and wish this were all a dream.

Last night in my dreams, Micah was sitting at my kitchen table eating a bowl of cheerios. I ran up to him and hugged him from behind, and he laughed and I laughed and then we were both laughing there together in the kitchen, hugging. It was such a happy moment.

Sometimes the cloud lifts and I fully comprehend how bad this is.
I can't believe Micah is not here and I will never see him again. It's something I cannot warp my mind around. Sometimes it makes me question his existence to begin with. I have these amazing memories of this incredible, warm, happy, bright time in my life; where I laughed and loved and lived...and I have all the pictures, messages, clothing, documents to prove it. Yet how can the origin of this be taken away so quickly, and the things around it remain so strong? How can I have everything else but the one person that brought everything else? I can't comprehend that.

I carry your heart with me.

"i carry your heart with me"
a poem by ee cummings.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go, you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of the tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the starts apart

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart).

micah, i carry your heart with me.

Lately.

Lately I have been sadder than words can express. I'm positive that the phrase "time will help" is a lie. Time does not help. The only thing time does is make everything more real, which ultimately makes it feel worse...
It is feeling real that Micah is not here...more real than before. I went college shopping today and it made me feel devastated. My mom and I cried together the whole way home.

I went to the library yesterday and I laughed at myself because I practically rented out the whole "grief" section...(I wonder what the poor librarian was thinking.) I've got one book down and 10 or so more to go...hopefully I'll find some things to be helpful.

I found this poem a couple months ago in a book. Despite its simplicity it says a lot...
"Separation" by W.S. Merwin:

Your absence has gone through me

Like thread through a needle.

Everything I do is stitched with its color.

Now that April feels decades away, I'm feeling myself thinking less about the actual accident and death, and more about Micah's absence. The details of the funeral and hospital seem to be fading in my memory; but nothing can ever possibly subdue the feeling of not having him here. It is the biggest, gaping hole. I would give absolutely anything to hear his laugh or see his smile...even a quick glimpse from 500 feet away might be sufficient. When he was alive I would miss him tremendously if he was just away for a weekend--so this feels like a piece of me has been literally ripped from my heart.

Some days, I'll just be wandering around my house and I'll get the biggest craving ever for a Micah hug. He was an expert on bear hugs--a.k.a. squeezing me so hard I couldn't breath and I'd have to practically wheeze "stop!" (Gosh, I even miss those.) His normal hugs were perfect as well--we always talked about how our height ratio was perfect, because my head fit perfectly on his shoulder.

Not like his hugs are the only thing I miss. That is only one thing on the list of 2937495084523. But then again, there are 2937495084523 reasons I love him...so naturally I expect that list to be long, if not endless. :-)