Actually this entry has been on my mind for quite a while, I've been trying to find the right words. I don't think I have them yet, but if I don't write about it, I won't. As I look at this blog as a part of the healing process, I owe it to myself to do my best to try and heal.
I've heard the phrase, "When it rains it pours", but it's never rang so true more than now.
Mother's Day-my dear friend Cameron threatened suicide and the out-pour from that turned out to be what many of us considered to be a blessing. It was a loud cry, he received the help he was looking for. He went to get help for the depression he had been struggling with for a long time. There was a collective sigh of relief throughout his community of friends and family.
Memorial Day weekend- Cameron and I got together Sunday night and hung out, talked, laughed, cried until 4am. I can honestly say that he was the first person since all of my heartache started that fully understood what I was going through and vice versa. He seemed to be on the up and up, we planned on seeing Leonard Cohen and various shows/concerts, he wanted to move back to West Seattle and I opened my home to him any time he wanted to come visit, to get away from it all.
Monday morning-Memorial Day: Cameron was a Marine and for the occasion, I took him out to breakfast where we laughed more and completely enjoyed being in each others company. Reveling in the past and getting down to brass tacks. Cameron was dealing with loss. The loss of something he (like so many of us do) felt as though he had taken advantage of and only realized how important it was to him once it was gone. The only person he wanted to talk to had cut him off (sound familiar?). While talking with him I made a comment stating, "It feels like your heart doesn't beat right, and it's hard to breathe." The look he gave me was the realization that someone understood at the same time while he was going through it.
After breakfast, I dropped him off at a friend's place and I told him I loved him.
There is a difference between someone giving you unsolicited advice and 'knowing' what you're going through when they've been through it in the past versus someone experiencing the same pain at the same time you are. It's a connection that alleviates the soul wrenching even if only temporarily. I found it refreshing that we could lean on each other, to talk about it, or not whenever shit started to feel like more than we could handle.
June 4, 2012- It was more than he could handle. My dear, sweet, funny friend died that morning. I don't know how. I don't want to know. I have my memories of him and I choose to keep them just the way they are. He and I had always had a good connection. I loved arguing with him, he had such strong convictions in his beliefs whether they were political, religious, moral, artistic-whatever. The man had a point of view and dammit, he wanted you to know what it was regardless if you agreed with him or not. Disagreeing with him was wicked fun, he was too easy to egg on.
He had a laugh that was so infectious, just hearing him laugh caused people around him to laugh. He had a great sense of humor that had the potential for anyone to pee their pants. The jokes always flowed, the use of the word 'douche' was tossed around more times than one can blink. The amount of talent that poured from his very being was inspirational. I had seen Cam play shows many times, I loved to support him in his efforts to do more.
There were times we didn't see each other as often as I would have liked, but I lit up whenever I saw him. I adored him, even if he was a jackass-which he had tendencies to be. He was a light on the darkest of days. I am so saddened to know he put his light out. I refuse to. Cameron was so influential in my life as he was to many others. His story will continue as long as I am around...and of sound mind.
Monday, June 11, was his funeral. It was difficult as well as bittersweet, as most funerals are.
I have a mix of emotions that flood through me when I think of him and what happened. I previously stated that it's hard to breathe. In my own selfish way, I feel left behind. I lost the person that connected with me in a way no one else did at a time we both needed each other. Of course there is anger and sadness, but there is also love and peace. I wish he could have held out, I wish he would have called, I'll probably always wonder if there was more I could do. At the same time, I know his pain is gone and the sense of peace I get when I think of that washes over me. Almost like he's telling me he's alright and it will get better, even for me.
I am so happy to know that the last words we said to each other were, "I love you." He knew he was loved, he always will be.
This is my promise to you Cameron Betts,
I promise to never give up. I promise to always do my best to keep my head up even when the world tells me to look down. I will see through the pain, I will keep strong and my faith in love and humanity. To never stop arguing, fighting the man, and standing up for what I believe in-including myself. I promise to always be true to those that I love and forgive those who have wronged me. I promise to never forget you and always carry you in my heart.
I love you.
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