happy birthday to me

it's my birthday today. normally i get really excited about my birthday weeks in advance. i know exactly what i'll do, who i'll invite, what we'll do, multiple days-worth of birthday activities. this year, not so much. i wasn't even looking forward to it. i told several people that i wish it could just be next month when i'm more prepared for it.

i had a really nice weekend away from chicago, my apartment, my life. pk made sure that i ate a lot of really delicious food and laughed as often as possible, which i really appreciate. i would also appreciate if he didn't treat me like such a bro and go on and on about his girl problems, but that's really here nor there. here nor there, huh....not a phrase i use that often.

i realize that i'm not using capital letter in this. it's my motherfucking birthday and i'm totally allowed.

i was completely stuck in the burbank airport for about four hours, fearing that i might never make it home. daniel asked how long i would be in sfo so he could visit. when i told kristine she said that he's confusing and that pretty much sums it up.  when i finally did land in chicago i started crying immediately, like as soon as the wheels hit the tarmac...tears.

i wish that wouldn't happen. i have so many really great memories here and there's no reason i should associate this whole city with kevin but i do. a lot of the things i do here, people i know here, are because of him. biking is one of my favorite things to do on earth and i would have never done that were it not for him. lola is my love and i wouldn't have her if it weren't for him. this apartment is home, a home we found together (although i actually found it and brought him here to took at it, we signed the lease together and made it home together).

i haven't cried today, well, almost when my mom called because my parents are being such dicks. they haven't even checked on me.

man, by the time i finished this....my birthday was over 3 minutes ago. wah-wah-wah

biting my tongue

i have to remind myself to just take the high road. don't say anything that will make things worse for someone who is already unable to deal with the truth anyway. i will be the bigger person. i will bite my tongue. oh, but i have an opinion. and i have facts on my side.

where is my mind

Where I'm at today is actually a nicer place than I was yesterday. I never really know from one minute to the next whether I'm going to start crying or be ok or completely numb. Today, however, has been a good day and I'm not going to question it. I'm just going to roll with this grieving process and let it take me where it wishes.

I woke up this morning really angry at the whole judicial system and the way that it treats felony controlled substance offenses when it's a proven addictive substance that was possessed. I mean, I know you can't force someone to want to clean up and you can't force someone to want to face their problems, but some good has to come out of some sort of treatment, right? Like even if the person doesn't want to be go something has to somehow sink in there. They have to hear some words the therapist says, or notice something about what they talk about in there. right?

It was nice to wake up angry instead of sad, but sort of amazing how angry I was. There was no peaceful, hello world, trying to adjust to being awake moment at all. It was just instant anger. I don't know what I was dreaming about but maybe it carried over into awake world.

I've been doing all this review of my life and how it will be different now. My day to day isn't all that different. Sure, there are all these moments where I would normally text Kevin something stupid or look for him online, or get some stupid message from him or get annoyed by his facebook posts and think about how productive he could be at a job if he would work as hard at it as he did with facebook. But it's more like a large chunk of my history is now just gone. There were the Kevin years and now there are the non-Kevin years. I mean, even past couple of years were Kevin years. He was always on my mind, I was always worrying about him, fielding ridiculous phone calls from him, fighting with him about this or that. If I had a problem, he was who I talked to.  I never really lost that connection, that hope that he could get his shit together. That there would be a happy ending in there somewhere.

He hated it when I cried, threatened whomever was the cause (even if I told him not to say anything). I guess he'd want to beat himself up right about now for all this sadness he caused.

He was such an imperfect person. I can't pretend like he was something he wasn't just because he's not here anymore. I can't pretend that he wasn't an expert liar, would be incredibly lazy, chose booze/heroin/whatever over a lot of better things in his life. He had a way to make people love him regardless of those imperrfections, smart people who would normally have nothing to do with any of that. He dicked over a lot of people, and yet they still thought he was great. How does someone have the ability to do that? If I did half the shit he did, I'd have a fraction of the friends he had. Amazing.

He was incredibly talented at almost everything he did. I used to call him the dumbest smart person I ever knew. He could just pick something up like he was doing it for his whole life. He had an insatiable appetite for music, movies, culture, whatever...He just knew about stuff and had done stuff. He was incredibly gifted but if there was a wrong choice, he'd make it just because he could and it seemed fun.

He also had a knack for finding people who could bring out the worst in him. He knew better, but he did it anyway. He never learned what the word enough meant. There was never enough. He was shocked when I said enough, despite me telling him it was coming. That I had all that I could take. Shocked. And the years following, despite knowing that we were going different directions, that we wanted different things, he still called and texted and emailed about how things could be. How he wanted them to be with us. Never gave up.

It's weird trying to figure out what happens now. All of those things I wished for will never be now. All of those things I'd want to tell him will have to go somewhere else. All of that history stays with me and only me now. I no longer share all those memories with someone. They're now mine alone. It's a weird place to be in, a sad place, but a place I have to get used to because that's where I am now.

porch sitting

i've been sitting on my porch listening to music. i put on a mix cd that kevin made me years ago for valentine's day. i cried like a fucking baby. i was actually glad that it was over and califone came on. so i guess the moral of this blog entry is that lovey mixes that your dead ex boyfriend makes are bad, while chilled out pretty songs by califone are good.

i found this article in interview magazine, which i hate. it was an interview that morrissey did with linder sterling. i kind of adore it. he sent it to her in a letter with his questions for the interview. it reads "i shall love you till that final stretch of sand that the sea never quite reaches is finally swathed by crashing waves. or, perhaps longer...it there's time."

sigh.

i'm sad at night. every night.

i'm wide awake

and having a rough morning. I'm not feeling well, stuffy with a little bit of a cough, and I miss Kevin this morning. I was doing ok and then suddenly I was not. I guess this is how it will be from now on. I'll be ok and then I won't be, but am I really ever ok? I just don't think about it and then I do.

I can't always be this difficult. It just can't.

slowly. trying

It's Saturday. One week has passes since I found out about Kevin and it's been quite a tough one.

Andrea, Bob and I drove up to Michigan on Monday. The zombie drive. There have been a lot of zombie moments. In fact, most moments have been zombie ones. Thank you brain for this coping mechanism. I enjoy it more than the hysterical crying that happens when the zombie wears off.

The service....There was a visitation first. People I had heard about, people I had not. Everyone sad and numb and blank. People I had never heard of telling me that they knew so much about me, how much he loved me. How I was the love of his life. How much I did for him. I never know quite what to say to that. I mean, what do you? I mostly thanked them, told them I had heard about them, that he was mine too.

I tried to hold it together. I did such a good job until I signed the guest book. "Heidi Goldman and Lola Jean Goldman Hagen." I lost it. I had to leave the building. I went out to the car to see Lola (who was in the car. It was a cool day, she did fine. people walked her, said hi to her when they needed a break) and I took her to the front so she could see some of his friends and they could see her.

I met Kathy. My strange jealousy of her, not at this moment but in general. My feelings of guilt because of Kevin's phone calls to me from her house telling me he wished things could be the way they used to be, that he still loved me and always would. She and her sister were kind to me. Kathy was a mess, having a hard time keeping it together. I tried to comfort her but there's only so much I could do.

I was an ass hole and felt left out of things. There weren't really any pictures of us, like I was erased. It was selfish and I feel bad for having felt it. K's mom emailed today and in our exchanges she said that I was the love of his life, so I guess she acknowledges my importance to him, just not that day. Which is totally ok. I mean...she lost her only son. I was just being an ass.

Kevin's mom held it together pretty well. I was quite impressed. I mean, of course it was difficult and she had a hard time not crying, but she greeted everyone. She held her own. I'm impressed by her. She's been through so much. She has a priest speak, a man who never met him. A mean whom Kevin would have never wanted to speak at his funeral. Ever. At some point he said that Kevin didn't have any angry bone in his body and I actually laughed a little. Everyone heard me, and I felt a little bad but it was just funny. Kathy said later the he was fueled by anger and hate. That pain in the ass.

Glen, Drew and this guy Dave all spoke and then I looked around. I wanted Ian to speak, someone from Chicago but no one was stepping up so I did. I didn't know how to introduce myself. I didn't know what I was going to say, nor do I remember what I said, but I know that I fought back tears the whole time. That when I ran out of things to say I ran to my chair and shook and hyperventilated and when it was over found Ian and just cried, for a long time.

Kathy and her sister Theresa let me look through his things and I took his messenger bag, his "kurt cobain" sweater, the fleecy shirt he used to wear to bed and some t-shirts. I gave one to bob and one to ian. He would have wanted it. There was a bit of a struggle for the bag and I feel like I was a little selfish but I wanted it. I used it today. I had to fix a couple of the buckles and will probably get a hold of Chrome to replace something.

Ian asked Kathy who she was and when she said she was Kathy he looked at her really seriously and said "and who were you to Kevin" and when she said "his girlfriend" he said "oh, the current one." And then I had another ass hole moment where I was super amused that he said it. God, I suck.

The week has been a blur, a terrible blur. A pill filled blur, even. Today I've been so-so. Cried twice. Got an email from kevin's mom. She wants to come to Chicago to spread his ashes here. i told her we should also spread some in Ely. She told me that I was the love of his life and she wonders what would have happened had we stayed together. I'm repeating myself. I haven't even taken any pills.

Last night at Japandroids a girl passed out face first and wasn't moving. I had flashed of what it must have been like for kevin and then had a panic attack and started crying and then had to leave. I bought a better chain for his ring.

This will get easier, right?

wide awake yet sleeping

I've been sleepwalking through every second that's passes since Saturday morning. My eyes are open, well mostly open, they're a little puffy, but my brain is completely shut off. I can't remember anything. I can't get names of people I've know for years right. I can't think of anything at all because it all leads back to a Kevin memory. Every time my heart hurts, I grab my chest but then think of Kevin grabbing his, his heart no longer beating. The pain down his arms, the tightness in his chest. Gripping it. Fall off his chair. If a heart attack he did actually have.

I talked to Mike, "trees", today and he said he's mad. He wants to know who this Mark guy is that he was staying with. Who his last phone call was to. What they ate for breakfast. What he did with his tax return. He said he's going to get the police report, that the stories don't add up. I don't know if it matters now.

My brain is so scattered. I'll be ok one minute and so not ok the next.

Kevin's mom called me this morning and it came up on my phone as Kevin. I sat there for a while and watching it ring. "Kevin Hagen" while his picture flashed on my phone's screen and my heart dropped into my stomach. She wanted to know what baseball team he liked. That she couldn't remember and knew that I would know.

Of course I know, I know him in a real way.

I still can't believe this. I feel like I'll never be ok again, I'll never be whole again.

I always hoped that he would get it together and we could maybe, just maybe...but...

facebook

everyone' writing out facebook memorials on his page. i couldn't do it yesterday. i did today. it said this:

"facebook is kind of the perfect place for us to say our goodbyes to kevin, as he was all over it. kevin, you taught me how to keep score at baseball games, you cleaned our house when i had the ladies over, you trained our dog to the best dog ever, you sent me flowers for no reason at all, grew me tomatoes even though you hated them, made fun of the baseball team i love, laughed when i bobbed my head to hip hop, danced like a fool in public, gave me my bike and built it all of it's parts in an effort to woo me, supported me when no one else did, drove me crazy, put too much salt on the popcorn, farted in bed, thought that i liked the shower water too hot and my food too spicey. you loved me more than anyone ever has and maybe ever will. the good times were the best and the bad times were the worst, but through them all we always loved each other. i'm broken. i miss you. forever."

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times

Dear Kevin,

Friday afternoon when I changed my bike tire all by myself the first thing I wanted to do was tell you that I did it, because I thought you would be proud of me. You always used to get frustrated with me when I made you do it because it's so easy and I should have learned. But I never needed to, I always had you to help.

Yesterday morning I awoke to the news that the previous night, around 6pm, you were found dead in the basement of your friend's house. I then spent the entire day either crying hysterically or completely numb. I'm not sure what's better because they both seem pretty shitty.

This isn't something that should surprised me, you had your problems and you never seemed to get a hold on them but it looks like they finally got you. You knew you wouldn't live until you were old, used to tell me all the time, but I tried to pretend like you didn't mean it.

I keep trying to imagine a life where I can't text you stupid things that Lola does, or tell you something about baseball, or ask you a question, or hear your laugh or tell you that you crazy lady. I am trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'll never receive a text from you saying that you os'd your popcorn, or that the cubs suck, or that a certain band is awesome and I should check them out. I'll never hear you tell me to give Lola a big kiss from poppa ever again, and you'll never be able to give her a big kiss again.

And it all breaks my heart, but it more than breaks my heart. It leaves a hole where you lived in heart, not where memories of you/us lived but where you lived and stayed and never left. Those memories take up a large part, but you took up the largest.

I threw you a "wake" at Stella's last night and it was amazing. So many people came out to, people that I couldn't invite because I didn't know and people that I did and everyone just hugged each other. Heather even hugged me, which I wasn't so into but you would have thought was funny. Nickey and I even had some moments and I feel like maybe we'll have some more. You would have liked that so much. Sue and Rozi showed up, all of the bike people. Some got pretty rowdy (Winkelman, Jove, Johnny were the most drunk of the bunch) but some were very somber. James was inconsolable and Nate wasn't too much better. At some point I ran out of things I could say to them.

Everyone kept telling me they were sorry for MY loss, which I wish they hadn't. It was our loss. Everyone in that bar lost you, even Stella who was pretty upset. She said 'so young. i keep asking about him. Where Kevin? Where Bobby" in her adorable Polish accent.

People kept telling me how much you loved me, that you loved me more than anything in world, that you adored me, and I know they were trying to help but I already knew all of that. And the truth of the matter is I loved you like that too. People thanked for for everything I did for you, and told me how appreciative they were, that when you started dating me they thought that 'this is it. She's going to save him.'  But I couldn't save you. I tried to fucking hard to save you for so long, but you didn't want to be saved. You wanted to live your life the way you wanted to live it and you wanted me to be ok with that and let you. But I couldn't let you because I couldn't imagine this very moment when I'm sitting alone in my living sobbing because you don't exist anymore. More than one person said that when we broke up they thought that that was it, that it was all going to go downhill. I was your stability, and sadly it looks like they were right. I never wanted that. I just couldn't fight with the demons anymore, they were winning and it was killing me.

Brent told me that your spirit still exists, that you had such a great spirit that there's no way it's gone. I told him that it wasn't good enough. That I don't want your spirit. Your spirit will never tell me that my thighs are getting fat just to be an ass. Your spirit will never tell me that the cubs suck and when I tell you some random baseball fact or about yelling at someone on bike bike "that's my girl." I'm not your spirit's girl. Lola isn't your spirit's dog. fuck that.

I told Lynn that I don't know how to exist in a world where you don't. That I don't know how to wake up every day and know that you aren't there. For a second this morning, just like less than a second this morning, I didn't think about it. But then I tried to open my eyes, which are basically puffed shut, and it hit me all over again and probably will all day, all week, all year, all life.

I wish I could have saved you.

I wish you could have saved yourself.

I will always love you, you bastard.