I don't really know if this is the proper place for this. This site was meant for memories of Matt. Originally I was hoping for mostly uplifting or cathartic memories of Matt. Healing maybe. And we received some of that. We. Like I am doing this with anyone else. I received some really nice memories of Matt. Scroll down the stories and there are some well written submissions. (You have to skip mine to find them) Maybe my last post changed that, I don't know. And this post is mostly focused on me. Oh well. Matt won't mind.
I do know that no one is sending in any memories anymore. I am not upset about that. It's been a while. And hey, I haven't written anything either. I certainly remember things other than what I have written and yet here the site sits. With no updates. At all.
I was going to scan in some art I have that Matt drew when he was in 7th or 8th grade. It is pretty damn good. And I have a couple of the Christmas cards he designed. I was going to add a page with that. And maybe contact Vel Rae and see how many other Christmas Cards he designed that I could get and put online. I am sure she would have been more than helpful. She always has been. I wanted to build this site up to a true representation of Matt and all his talent.
But doing any of these things, much less contacting Vel Rae is just too much for me to accomplish. I start to, and I break down into sobs of grief. Like he just died a week ago. Not 2 years ago.
Oh, I can go about my normal day, I can interact with people just fine. Nobody knows a thing. I'm pretty good at faking it. I can even talk to someone about Matt as long as I don't let myself think too clearly about the fact that my friend Matt is dead. If I did, I would be the guy curled up in the corner crying all day. Every day. Instead of the guy that cries every night when no one is around to see. The guy that feels like his heart is going to explode in his chest from the pressure of his grief.
I have read books about dealing with grief. Too many to count. I have met with councilors, psychologists and psychiatrists, and none have been able to help. I don't want to be locked up in an institution. I don't want to try medication any more. It didn't help. And please, no one talk to me about god. Just don't go there. If that is my problem it is unsolvable. Let it be.
I am not really sure why I am admitting all of this to the 10's of people who still stop by this site. This is not really for them. And it's not for Matt, wherever he's looking down from, because he's not anywhere. That's what dead is. Being gone. The only place Matt is now is in the hearts and minds of everyone who loves and remembers him. And that's quite a few people, but its not really Matt. It's not the guy I was going to meet after the show. It's not the guy that I will never get to meet with again. And never get to talk to until all hours of the night.
This was really just for me. To put it out there. Because I read in one of those grief books that it was supposed to help. So, now it's out there. Let the healing begin.
This wasn't really a memory of Matt. But, it was about him. Plus, it is my site. And nobody was using it right now.