I suppose you begin at the beginning.
My name is Ethan. I'm 22 years, 11 months, 2 weeks and 5 days old. So far, I've lived a fairly average life. I've learned to walk. I've learned to talk. I've learned to read and write. I've learned to love, and I've learned to dream. Those who know me might argue that my life has been a little more chaotic than most, and perhaps they'd be right, but I'm a firm believer that it is what it is, and that it could always be worse. So, with that said, I suppose you could say I've been relatively blessed. For all the difficulties I've endured; for all the heartbreak and anger, confusion and frustration; I have also experienced love.
I have experienced the kind of love that leads you to place yourself in harm's way for a dear friend. I have experienced the kind of love that makes your bones ache when she's not around. I have experienced the kind of love that gives you the strength to help raise a family. I have also felt the kind of love that numbs your whole being when you lose it.
I lost my Dad 6 months and 1 day ago; which is to say, that was the day he was declared "dead".
Now I think about it, I don't actually know exactly when he died. Not really. I just know that 4 days after I last saw him, somebody noticed they hadn't heard from him in a few days. That somebody then called the police, who found my Dad. The police then called the paramedics, who declared my Dad dead at 18.50, January 10th, 2013. I'm not even sure if that's right anymore. The more I think about it, the less the dates make sense. For now though, I think it's accurate. Anyway, I digress.
I remember the day I found out; I think it was the day after, but I'm not sure. My girlfriend had dropped me off at work, and I received the call at about 9.10am. The coroner had rung to ask if anyone had told me about my Dad. I said "No...", but at this point I'd figured it out, and was doubled over.
As I sit writing, it occurs to me that I've sat here for 10 minutes trying to find the words to describe the rest of that day, and the weeks that followed. I don't think I'm ready to do that yet. I don't think it's clear enough in my head.
I'll fast forward, with a vow that someday, I will talk about it.
It's 6 months on, and nothing has been the same since. I find myself more and more aware of the deafening speed at which time passes, and I am overwhelmed by the futility of it all. The hardest bit is the lack of understanding.
I can't finish this right now. I'll post it anyway, and I'll complete it another time.
