Almost Easy

“Ready?” Brian asked cautiously.
We were standing outside of the community center that held Tyler’s entire family and most of his friends. I was practicing my deep breathing, subconsciously smoothing the wrinkles in my dress with my sweaty hands.
I was not ready.
I was queasy, though.
Brian held his hand out to me. I took it.
One more deep breath.
“Okay,” I sighed heavily.
We walked inside hand in hand and I was immediately overcome with the noise. There were people everywhere. I’d forgotten how big of a family Tyler had. He had eleven immediate cousins. Ridiculous.
I scanned the crowd and immediately picked out John and Justin sitting at a table across the room. Their girlfriends were in tow. I lead Brian determinedly through the sea of people and plopped us both down across from my bandmates.
“You guys made it,” John said sort of happily.
Justin rolled his eyes, “Obviously.”
“Dude, just for one day. Would you shut the fuck up?” John groaned.
I smiled affectionately. My eyes began to wander, looking all around for Tyler’s parents. No sign of them. I figured that a table was the safest place to be until I could pick them out of the crowd.
“How was your flight?” John asked.
Brian smirked, “She snored—”
I tossed a hand over Brian’s mouth, “It was fine.”
“Are you staying with the Hell Hound?” Justin asked me with an eyebrow cocked.
I furrowed my own brows, “Absolutely not.”
Justin snickered. His girlfriend was looking at me like I owed her something. I supposed it was a greeting.
“How’re you, Ashley?” I asked her pleasantly.
She smiled, “I’m alright. Who’s your friend?”
Justin leaned into her ear and whispered. Probably something along the lines of Synyster Gates, you idiot.
“Sorry,” I faltered. “This is Brian, Brian this is Ashley; Justin’s girlfriend.”
Brian shook her hand from across the table, smiling warmly at her. I’d always wished that I had gotten a chance to become closer to Ashley. She was pretty cool and she’d been around since we moved to California. Justin joked about never wanting to marry her because, and I quote, she’s crazy—but we all figured she’d have a ring by the end of the year.
“He’s cute,” she mouthed silently at me.
I nodded and scrunched my face with embarrassment.
“Anyone seen Margarete?” I asked, scanning the crowd again with no results.
“About half an hour ago,” John’s girlfriend, Mel, piped up. “She made the rounds…haven’t seen her since.”
“Did you write a speech?” John asked me abruptly.
I shook my head, “Was I supposed to?”
He and Justin both nodded. My heart froze.
“Margarete said you were going to say something,” John told me seriously.
“For fuck’s sakes,” I grumbled.
It hadn’t dawned on me that I might be required to speak. Ty’s parents certainly hadn’t asked me to. I assumed that I was going to be a guest and nothing more….apparently you can’t assume shit.
“I’ll be back,” I said to the group before turning to Brian specifically. “I’m going to go find Marge. Are you cool here?”
He nodded.
“Bring back booze with you,” Justin called after me.
Copious amounts of familiar faces stopped me to hug me and offer condolences. Each hug made me more tense than the last. However, each person gave me an opportunity to further track down Marge’s whereabouts.
“She’s outside,” Tyler’s uncle told me.
This confused me but I could do with a cigarette so I marched my little body outside into the fading sunlight. To my surprise, Marge was around the side of the building smoking a fucking cigarette. She looked a lot like a deer caught in headlights when I busted her.
“Hey,” I said with a smile and my hands raised. “No judgements.”
“Blair,” she sighed with relief.
She rushed to me and wrapped me up into her arms. She squeezed so tightly that I thought she may have cracked one of my ribs. When she finally let go, she looked like a weight had been lifted.
“Have an extra?” I smirked. “My pack is inside.”
“Don’t tell Tom,” she winked as she handed me a cigarette.
I lit the smoke and felt its instant relief hit my nerves. We stood in silence for a minute relishing in the nicotine. It was quiet out there.
“I’m so happy you made it,” she said softly.
“Of course.”
“Have you seen the J’s?” she asked, meaning Justin and John.
I nodded.
She blushed then, “So I guess the jig is up? I suppose they mentioned you saying a little something?”
“Sure did,” I half-laughed. “Way to give me a heads up, Margie.”
“If I asked, you would have panicked,” she smiled. “This way, it’ll come from the heart.”
“Or from my stomach,” I whined, rubbing at my stomach that was tossing with nerves.
“Get some liquor in you,” she giggled. “You’ll be fine. It’s meant to be a celebration of his life. We’ll get the sad stuff out of the way so we can all have a good time.”
“Should it be a good time?” I asked seriously, taking a long drag of my cigarette.
“Sure it should,” she shrugged. “We’re all here to honor him. There’s no better way to do that than by having a great time. He wouldn’t want us all to be moping around on his behalf.”
I considered telling her about my freak-out earlier in the day. Maybe I should have told her about Tyler’s letter and how confused it left me feeling…how fucking destroyed it had me feeling. But I could see in her face that she was trying to be brave. She wanted to come across as strong and capable of sodding through the chaotic debris.
Who was I tear that apart for her? And so, I pretend that I hadn’t moped at all.
“Okay,” I sighed. “Anything you want.”
“It’s a pretty good turn out,” she smiled. “So touching.”
“A lot of people loved him,” I replied sadly. “It’s a shame he didn’t know.”
“Oh, he knew,” she argued with little hostility. “It didn’t matter. Two different things, Honey.”
“I admire your strength,” I told her honestly.
She shook her head, “There’s no strength here. But I do the best I can.”
“That is strength,” I shrugged before tossing my cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with my toes.
“We should go in,” she said, mimicking my actions. “You’re okay to say a little something?”
I nodded.
We walked back in together and Tom immediately swept up his wife. He scolded her playfully for the aromatic smell she was putting off. Busted.
I joined my group once more, Brian and John were in a heated debate about pickups. That was simply not my area of expertise so I opted to tune out.
I took it upon myself to start running through points of topic that I might touch on in my surprise speech about my dearly departed friend. If I’d had time to properly work something out, I was certain that I could have delivered something heartwarming. Instead all I could think of was how angry I was that he’d left me here alone. That obviously wasn’t going to fly given the situation so I changed gears, decidedly going back to a time before Tyler had thrown my life into a state of disarray.
Instinctively, I reached for Brian’s hand. Things were starting to well up again and I wasn’t prepared to have a nervous breakdown in the middle of a so-called-celebration.
He gave me a quick glance but I wasn’t looking at him. I was somewhere else. He laced his fingers with mine and gave my hand two distinct squeezes.
Before I had a chance to really work myself up, Marge’s voice cut through the noise, effectively silencing the room.
She tapped on the microphone a couple of times. I turned to look at her tiny frame standing up on the make-shift stage, she was shaking. Tom was by her side looking particularly grim.
“Hello everyone,” Marge spoke, her voice trembling. “We wanted to thank everyone for coming out tonight. We know that many of you had to make a long journey, so please know that we appreciate it. Tyler would have been so touched to see so many faces here to celebrate his life.”
She took a second to compose herself. I was tense. All I wanted to do was to hug her and to tell her that I understood. Instead, I watched helplessly from my seat as she struggled to get it together. Brian squeezed my hand again.
“We would like tonight to be a celebration,” she finally managed. “We would like to have a couple of people speak to our son’s memory, let everyone have their tears, and then move past them. No sadness tonight, only good memories and good times.”
I was in a serious state of self-doubt. I carried my sadness around like a fucking backpack.
“Our son was a passionate boy,” she said, her eyes twinkling at the memory of our Ty. “From the day he was born, he was always fighting for more. More food, more attention; more life. We can all agree that life is hard. Things happen sometimes that we just…never recover from. Our boy was resilient as hell. He withstood all of his life’s obstacles and never faltered in his love and devotion to the one’s he cared about.”
My eyes were already welling up. Brian sensed my impending damnation and abandoned my hand, opting instead to pull my whole body into him, rubbing my arm affectionately.
“Tyler may have lost his battle,” she was visibly fighting back her tears. “But he will forever live on in the lives of everyone who knew him.”
I was again in awe of her strength.
She raised her plastic cup and tried to smile, “To Tyler.”
“To Tyler,” the whole room replied loudly, respectively downing our drinks.
My hands shook as I emptied my cup down my throat.
“If we could please have Blair Peterson come up,” Marge wept remarkably lightly. “She’d like to say a few words.”
She’d like to. Yeah, right.
My knees nearly buckled as I rose to my feet and carried my weight to the stage. I could feel everyone’s eyes tearing into me, curious and desperate to hear what I had to say. It only made me more nauseated.
Marge gave me a quick hug, and then Tom, and then they left me alone with the microphone. I waited until they’d reached their seats to even begin to think of what to say.
I shuffled my weight from one foot to another uncomfortably.
“Hi,” I said sheepishly into the microphone. Marge smiled. “My name is Blair…for those that knew me, I’m Tyler’s best friend…for those who don’t know me, I was Tyler’s girlfriend.”
The room laughed awkwardly.
“Ty and I knew each other since we were shitty little kids,” I spoke as my gears turned. “And that entire time, we were constantly mistaken for a couple. As if I should ever be so lucky to call that guy my spouse…”
I pushed down my tears. I refused to cry in front of this crowd.
“Tyler was like a brother to me. I grew up at his house, eating his family’s food and taking up their couch. When we were nineteen, we made the decision to move to California to start a life in music. With our band and our entire life’s savings, we drove across the country to start our new lives. We thought it was going to be like magic and that the world would bow to our whim.”
I swallowed really hard. The room was still. My eyes found Brian who was smiling supportively but I could tell that his heart was breaking for me. John was weepy. For whatever reason, that made me sort of laugh.
“We lived in my car for the first two months,” I smiled. “It was dirty and the smell was…it was bad. But it was the best two months of my life.”
The tears forced their way out and down my cheeks. I tried to stifle them back with all my might.
“I have Tyler to thank for my entire life,” I managed weakly. “For my music, for my career, for my friends…most importantly for my family. I will miss Tyler for the rest of my life…”
Marge lost it. Tom rubbed her shoulders as she wept into her palms. I wanted that kind of love. I wanted that kind of strength. They were lucky to have each other, despite the sorrow that would forever follow their marriage around.
“I hope,” I sighed. “That everyone will remember Tyler for the man he was. The hilarious, kind, generous, and bad-ass guitar playing motherfucker that he was. In time I hope we’ll all forget about the demons and focus only on the love we knew from him. I hope, in time, to leave out the rest.”
I took a deep breath and raised my glass without saying a word. The room mimicked me grimly. Marge was still bawling. I’ve never known speed like the kind I showed exiting that stage. It was a straight bee-line to Brian, where I collapsed into his chest and let my grief escape from my lungs.
He held me tightly, whispering bits and pieces of things being okay. John and Justin came from across the table and wrapped their arms around me—effectively taking Brian into the group hug as well. I have no idea where from, but Chris appeared to throw himself into the mix.
We all shared a moment together, basking in our deep darkness and mourning our fallen friend. It was enough to pull me together.
We all resumed our respective places at the table. Mel handed me a tissue from her pocket, smiling sympathetically as I dabbed at my damp eyes.
Tyler’s uncle spoke for a few minutes about how he’d bought Ty his first guitar. He’d managed to keep his emotions in check through the duration of his speech. Finally, his mother wrapped it up with another thank you and a serious encouragement to empty the bar. She reminded us that from then on, it was meant to be fun.
“You okay?” Brian asked me quietly once the room had started to pick up in volume again.
I nodded slowly, “I think so.”
He kissed my cheek to let me know he was there. As if I didn’t already know.
“This has been a real bummer,” Justin said as he examined his empty cup and searched the table for a full one.
“What did you expect?” Ashely half-laughed.
He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t do bummers.”
“That’s not what your last boyfriend said,” John cackled.
“Inappropriate,” Justin grinned.
“Your speech was beautiful,” Ashely said sweetly. “Really sad. But beautiful.”
I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t say anything. People would just have to forgive me for being rude—I was at a loss for what to say to anyone here. If I could go the rest of the night without talking about Tyler, I’d probably be alright.
But no. Soon a couple of his cousins were at my table, hugging me and reminding me how much Tyler loved me.
His letter was still etched into my brain, though. I was conflicted.
“If he loved me then why’d he leave,” I finally said bluntly once I’d reached my limit of people cooing over me and my loss.
I stunned his cousin, Peter. Which was unfair, in all seriousness, because Peter had always been my favourite. It was unfortunate that he’d been on the receiving end of my little shitty comment but it was what it was.
“I’m sorry,” I stumbled, internally pummeling myself. “Excuse me.”
I rushed back outside into the cool Massachusetts night. It wasn’t to cry or to fall apart, it was just to get some distance. I needed a second to be Blair and not to be Tyler’s grieving bestie. With a cigarette between my lips, I cooled my jets.
Brian appeared not too long after. He seemed relieved to find me standing and presumably in one piece.
“Smoke?” I asked, extending my pack to him.
He lit one and handed the pack to me, smirking as he said, “You made that guy cry.”
I rolled my eyes, “Whatever. He’ll live, I’m sure.”
Brian raised his hands defensively, “Not a criticism.”
“I’m edgy,” I sighed. “This is a little much for me.”
He nodded, the ember of his cigarette burning red hot as he pulled, “I know. It’s a little much for me and I hardly knew the guy.”
I dug at the ground with my foot, “It’s sad, huh?”
He nodded.
“It’s really fucked up because Ty would have hated this,” I laughed. “He hated family get-togethers. This is polar opposite to anything he would have chosen.”
“It’s not really for Tyler,” Brian answered weirdly, clearly fumbling through his own thoughts. “Death isn’t really about the person who died. Everything after is about the people left behind. So…tonight isn’t really about Tyler. It’s about his parents. It’s about his friends. It’s about you.”
His intellect and his articulation never ceased to stop amazing me. How lucky was I? Maybe Tyler had left me, but no one else had. Everyone else had rallied together and they were just trying to show me they cared. In my true, selfish and brutally apathetic nature, their care annoyed me. I made the decision then to stop being a bitch.
I caught myself as the three little words I knew it was too early to use nearly escaped from my lips.
“You’re right,” I said instead. “I needed perspective. I’m being awful.”
“You’re not being awful,” he laughed. “You’re doing what everyone else is doing.”
I bit, “What’s that?”
“You’re doing the best you can,” he shrugged. “The rest is just semantics.”
His beautiful brown eyes twinkled in the moonlight, his face only illuminated in bursts from the end of his cigarettes. I reminded myself again how lucky I was.
“For the record,” he added with a smirk. “I think you’re doing pretty well.”
I loved his unwavering confidence in me. The way that he was endlessly supportive of any and all pains and reactions that surfaced within me. He was understanding and beyond that, he was kind. I smiled at him, trying again not to tell him how much I adored him.
But in that exact moment, I loved him so much it hurt.

Notes

You know the drill.

xx