Moments of Nothing
It’s strange when you think back and see all these signs that something was about to change. But in the moment they didn’t mean anything at all.
Earlier today I wrote for awhile. I didn’t write a lot, but I wrote out some pain and anger and it took a few hours for me to finish. I had to get up and pace around and distract myself between pieces. It started off angry and ended with a lot of love.
Matt and I didn’t yell back and forth very often; but if we did, that’s how it went. We’d get mad. Get loud. And then calm down and discuss. Honest, but respectful.
There’s so much happening right now that infuriates me on a daily basis. Obvious things, like dealing with all the middlemen; and not so obvious things, like a fuse being blown in the boys’ bedroom and it not being a simple, quick fix. Sometimes that makes me angry with him. Pissed that I have to do all this shit now. Not in a self-pity way, but in a “what the fuck” sorta way.
On days that I get close to numbing out, I think back to words that now seem very foreshadowing leading up to his last days.
A friend of mine had been dealing with a mess and Matt told me he wanted to mow her lawn, but didn’t want to bother her. I told him I’m sure no one would stop someone from mowing their lawn. At least not a friend of mine. And then I asked why he wants to and he said, “If anything ever happens to me, I’d like to think someone would come and help you with our yard.” Not thinking he’d die, I told him if he ever left us he would still be responsible for our lawn care.
Along with that, a little over a month before Matt’s accident, Mac Miller died. Matt confided that he wasn’t sure why but his death was hitting him pretty hard.
And when I agreed that I wasn’t sure why either and didn’t realize he was such a big fan, he responded (with his hand rubbing his chest): He’s just so young. I think he struggled with a lot. That’s just—so sad.
It nearly brings me to tears every time I think back to that conversation, because he was so young. He did struggle with a lot. And it is so sad. My hand rubs my chest all day, everyday.
After going through Matt’s music, he had a lot more of Mac Miller than I realized. We listened to a few songs together, but I think he owns every album. I’ve been listening to him, often, and thinking of Matt and hearing certain lyrics that I believe resonated well with him.
It’s strange when you think back and see all these signs that something was about to change. But in the moment they didn’t mean anything at all.
Mac Miller, 2009