On Mason

It is almost impossible to collect my thoughts here. Just as with Catherine, and with Marina, I don’t have any right to talk about a person who others knew and loved on a daily basis, who I only knew briefly. But christ … Mason.

I don’t write much on here recently. To be honest, a post I wrote 6 months ago lead to a breakup under circumstances I do not wish to discuss. But then I became gun shy. It was the first time something I wrote on here had anything other than a positive impact on my life and relationships. Dutto tells me I am incredibly in touch with my feelings, with my dark things. I like that. I think I just use this as a place to muse on my own life, and know that the people who read this already know what I am like, what I am capable of, and what they get when they become someone I love. Mostly, this is my safest place of all. Mostly.

Its funny – I was going to write something different tonight. Yesterday was a very hard day for me. It will probably be a long time before February 13th is not a hard day for me. It was our anniversary. It is probably the one day of the year anymore that I get despondent about my past. Unforgiving. Lonely. Incredibly lonely.

But I did what I know I need to do. I reached out. I told just a few people that I was having a really hard time. That I was sad. Not in need of a hug or a drink or anything. I just needed to admit that I was sad, and why, and not hide it from people. And I did. And I cried. And I felt better.

The amazing thing is, I texted my dad about it. He called me. We talked for a long time. He told me he does the same thing on both of his anniversaries, still to this day. He thinks about mistakes he made, a life that might have been. And he said its okay.

Did I ever tell you about my dad?

“We didn’t always get along” would be such a misrepresentation. I blamed him for a lot of things throughout my childhood and even my early 20’s. I resented him. I disagreed with him. I blamed him. I did not like him. We had a huge blowup and falling out. I said some things I am not proud of. I told him I did not want him in my life anymore, because he was terrible at being my father.

A month later, when Klimchi and I were planning our wedding BBQ, I wrote him an email. I laid out how I felt, what was wrong with us, and what I thought needed to change if he wanted to be in my life. I told him it was important to me that he be there, but that I did not know what our relationship could be. Maybe we could try to be friends. He came to the BBQ. We slowly started working on things.

The thing is, my dad actually changed. He did not know how I felt. He wanted me to know some things: that he was proud of me. That he respected me. That he loved me and who I had become as a man. It took a long time, but I learned a lot of things about my assumptions about the man and my place in his life. I learned I was wrong about my preconceived notions. I learned I was wrong. I learned humility.

When everything fell apart 3 years ago, Dad was there for me. More so than I even realized. I saw him all the time. He took care of me. He helped me … he helped me become the person I am now. He became one of my best friends.

When I was cooking dinner for the family on Xmas Eve at my dad’s house 2 years ago, I asked him where the wine opener was. He pointed me to a drawer. I opened it, and I found a printed copy of the email I had sent him so long ago. It was highlighted, with markings in the corners and notations. He keeps it, to this day. It was one of the most important things that ever happened in his life, and he took it so seriously. Because he loved me. Because he wanted to be a better person.

So there I was yesterday, feeling like things couldn’t be worse, and I texted my dad. And he called me. And he made everything feel okay.

And then today.

Its funny how petty our perception of the world can get. My plans with a lady dematerialized because I am bad at dating. I spent the day alone (second in a row) working from home. My guest who I thought might be coming tonight told me he isn’t coming until tomorrow. In all honesty, my failboat dating life was really bothering me, it being Valentine’s Day and all. I am terrible at all of it, though that is a post for another time (and with humor involved). But I was just sitting here, thinking about how this day couldn’t get any worse. Because poor little me, a gal I fancy doesn’t seem to fancy me after all. Life is hard, right?

Davis sent the message through Facebook, because it is certainly the best way to reach everyone these days, so scattered and out of touch. Its impossible to explain how it feels to read that someone you know, someone you loved, someone you completely neglected to keep in touch with … they’re gone. Just gone. Forever. You just know the feeling or you’re lucky enough not to. Its devastating. Its surreal. Its life, happening.

I only know two things about all of this.

The first is that Mason’s death … Mason’s suicide … this is a shock to us all. But the effect it has had – in the last few hours, I have been in touch with people I haven’t spoken to in years. People who were once the entirety of my universe. People who are coming together to grieve by sharing every tidbit of a memory that was so perfectly, intrinsically Mason. Mason, you brought us all back together, even if just for a fleeting moment. And for that, I sincerely thank you.

The second is this: I cannot continue to keep things from people. To hide because I think I am weak, and different, and a burden with my emotions. I am very proud of the fact that when I was hurting, I reached out. That my friends (sis, female Knate) and my dad were there for me when I needed someone to just hear me say “I am hurting. Life is hard sometimes.” I can’t help but wish that Mason had been able to do that. But I know how hard it is to feel alienated, to feel alone, to feel unable to express the things that need to be expressed.

I won’t talk any more about Mason here. He was a man I knew very briefly, and who I thought the world of. I am staggered by all of this. Its a grief held more profoundly by many many others.

Tell someone you love that you love them. And tell them why. I may be alone in my life, but, as K-Hoob said to me last night … I am never alone.

And Mason. Thank you for bringing the lot of us back together for a moment, even if for such a horrible, senseless reason.

I will miss you.

The world was so much better with you in it.

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