I used to like Father's day, not that my dad actually cares he's a father. He was gone most of my childhood- either doing long haul truck driving, or abandoning my mother and us for months to years at a time. We got used to it... him not being there. But that doesn't mean I never missed my dad.

When he was gone for months at a time, I held this image in my head of his hands. I always admired my daddy's hands. I think it was because his hands were significantly bigger than mine symbolizing him as my protector. That is, after all, the image every girl should hold of her dad. The loving, over-bearing, way too protective father. The guy that would hover over your crib hours after hours just to make sure you were still breathing. The one who would pick you up when you fell of your bike. The one who would yell at you for bringing home bad grades, but minutes later would start tickling you. The one who would threaten your ex boyfriend for breaking his baby girl's heart. Maybe even the one who would walk you down the isle at your marriage. Silly day dreams, I know. I never had that. It seems the most prominent memories are of his words and fists.

I have an amazing step dad, though I never let him know that. When he came into my life I gave him so much hell for trying to replace my dad. Looking back on it now, he was/is more of a father than my own dad will ever be. What kills me, though, is that I feel my step dad still feels some resentment towards me for all the shit I put him through when I was younger. It's sad because I know he doesn't view me as one of his own, and that kind of hurts. But I understand completely.

So... I live my life without a stable father figure. A lot of people can do it, but I think for some it's hard. Very hard. I always have this desperate need to fill that void in my life where my father's love should have been. How do I replace it and with whom? My therapist told me last summer that she was worried I would search for it in all the wrong places. She cautioned me that if I was ever put in a dangerous situation (an abusive relationship) to not stick around just because the guy "loved" me. That's what a lot of women do. They're missing these stable relationships with important people in their lives, so they search for it else where. And when they think they find it, they won't give it up. No matter what abuse she undergoes, she won't leave because she's "filling" that void.

I'm not like that, though. Granted I've never been put in that situation, I know for goddamn fact that I would never put up with emotional OR physical abuse. I suffered it from my father for far too long, and only recently have I realized that I deserve better from people in my life. It's sad that it took so long, but look at me. I'm nineteen years old. It's not that fucking easy to just kick my dad out of my life, especially when I was living with him before I was an adult.

Whatever. All I'm trying to say is that Father's Day sucks.
I vote for Anti-Father's Day.

Gaaah.

Death. Death. Death.

As soon as we start kindergarten and until the day we graduate college, we are taught an array of things that will help us survive out on our own. We can take independent living classes- those teach us how to create a budget, how to find an apartment, how to juggle two jobs while going to school. We can take family living classes, sewing classes, consumer math classes, and everything in between. Why not, right? These classes are super beneficial when the time comes to leave the nest.

But then there are some things we are never taught. Not in school, not at home, not anywhere. Primarily, I speak of death. I'm not complaining that we are not taught how to deal with death of a loved one; rather, it's quite understandable that no one wants to speak of it. Death is something we have a hard time facing. Either we're scared of dying, or we're scared of other people close to us dying. So we push the thought out. We believe "that won't happen to me." Or "I'll live a long life." Death is such a taboo and gruesome thing, and it seems the best way to deal with it is not at all.

But what happens when, out of nowhere, someone close to us dies? We are left questioning ourselves and our faith. We wonder why it happened, how it happened, and we drown in our sorrows. We feel alone and misunderstood, and our outlook on life becomes bleak. We succumb to depression and anxiety, and eventually everyone else around us becomes affected by our emotions. All because we are never taught how to deal with the loss of a person..

In my case, I lost the closest person in my life. Steve and I had been best friends for three years. From the day we began hanging out there was an instant connection. At first, it was romantic feelings, if you will. But then we transitioned to best friends. Surely that's not all he wanted; I knew he sought more than a friendship. But he also knew that I could not give him those feelings anymore, and even though it hurt him, he stuck by my side 100%. He was the first person I trusted with my poetry and journal writings, and he soon became the first person I came to when I needed advice on what I wrote. We both were always open about everything. I knew I could talk to him about anything, and he felt the same way about me. I don't really need to explain anything more about our friendship, as I don't want to bore, but I want to stress that he was the most amazing person in my life. I have never held someone so dear to my heart. So, you can imagine, the day I found he died... my entire life changed.

From the moment I heard Steve had died, I fell into this pit of confusion. After Erik left my house (he was with me while I waited to hear if Steve was okay), I paced the house. I sat on the couch. I walked into the kitchen. I went outside for countless smokes. I tried calling my mom. I just didn't know what to do. Unfortunately, that wasn't the worst of my confusion. The months to follow were severely depressing. I lost all sight of what I wanted to do. I stopped giving a shit about myself, and threw my summer away by partying and spending all my college money. I stopped eating, dropped down to a hundred pounds, and got seriously ill. I had dreams about Steve consistently. Realistic dreams, nonetheless. Dreams where I'd get a phone call saying Steve was still alive. I'd rush over to his house, see him, HUG him, and he'd whisper "I love you" into my ear. These dreams killed me. I could not handle waking up in the morning only to realize that my best friend was still dead. I would never wish that pain upon anyone. I was lost. I just couldn't fathom seeing my best friend almost every single day, then never being able to see him again. My mind just could not comprehend it. In fact, it still doesn't.

So what do we do? What happens when someone dies? We have no one to teach us how to deal with it. We hear from our friends and family "It's okay. He's in a better place." Or "Just get over it. There's nothing you can do now." I wish there was some list implanted in all our brains of what NOT to say to someone who just lost a loved one. You may think you are trying to help someone, but you aren't. Saying those things is obsolete, pointless, and down right apathetic. Instead, we need someone to guide us through the death. Don't tell us to pick up a bible; doing so provides no solace to us- or rather, "some" of us. We need to be guided through these stages of grief and recovery!

I found the biggest help to be books. I've picked up at least six books within the past year that have taught me how to overcome the struggles that accompany the death of a loved one. But, not all of us are inclined to read. So then what? Fork over two hundred bucks for ONE therapy session? It doesn't make sense to me. But at the same time, you can't expect "classes" on how to deal with these things. It's too morbid for us to be worrying about, especially if we're not in that situation. Say you've never lost someone close to you: would YOU go to a course that offered advice on how to deal with someone dying? Someone who is already dead? Doubtful. Plus, I doubt learning about those things would ever help once you are placed in that situation. You lose sight of everything. You won't care what you've learned; someone so dear to you is dead, and it feels like everything is crumbling around you.

So I guess that means we'll continue to avoid the pain of losing someone we love until we are first-handedly experiencing it. It won't be fun, and it sure as hell won't be easy. But I guess that's life... and death.