We’re less than a month and a half away from the year anniversary of Christina Grimmie’s death, and somehow my life has continued on, in a weird funk. Beforehand, she was never really a forethought. I kept up with her because she went on 3 tours, consecutively, that I followed closely via social media, and I was involuntarily reminded of the talent that was Christina. In the past year, I’m consistently reminded of it, while lingering in a state of denial. It all feels like a dream. The days following her death, I wrote about vulnerability, and emotions, and fears that had redeveloped and had become unable to be tamed. You can find an excerpt of that at the end of this post. Looking back at those 3 - 6 weeks of my life, I have never been as vulnerable as I was then. It was like my heart put itself on my sleeve. Jumped straight out of my chest, to my t-shirt covered arms, with no sense of purpose or hint of being apologetic. If I needed to cry, I’d cry. If someone said anything teetering on the edge of critical, I couldn’t think straight. My senses and emotions became heightened all from a rush of vulnerability and fear of losing precious time. I suppose you could also call that paranoia. However, in the year following, I’ve found myself able to appreciate little moments, whether by myself or surrounded by others, far more than I would have before. Christina’s death single-handedly made me realize the importance of seeing the positives, and embracing the negatives. I appreciate little gestures, although I had already started to before that, and more than anything, it has made me really want to not waste my time on things or people that don’t deserve it, and put that energy into spending time with the people who really do matter most to me. Anything reminiscent of her makes me say to myself “life is too short.” I’m now the age she was when she was killed and although she lived a far more exciting and fulfilled life than I have thusfar, it doesn’t soften the blow any less. 22 years old and there’s still so much time in the world, and it was just taken. It is on a daily basis, even from people far younger than Christina or myself, nonetheless, none of it is justified. A friend of mine was in Orlando recently, and I had been in contact with her as she contemplated going and visiting The Plaza Live, and although we’ve both become sort of numb to it (she took it far harder than I did), the idea of the whole scenario was less than appealing. Where flowers and hoodies and posters once scattered the ground outside, I can only assume, has now been restored back to its natural state of solely being glass and concrete, with no remnants of the tears and broken hearts left at the windows looking in. I can still see the pictures, though. I can still see the fans in their pajamas and Before You Exit hoodies wandering up with flowers in their hands and friends at their sides, leaving their best for someone who only ever saw their best. Since, music and videos have continued to roll out. Somewhere on Stephen Rezza’s hard drive lives files of unreleased vocal tracks from someone who deserved far more recognition than she had. It is nice to hear some of those files released in music she was anxious to share with the world, but a bittersweet reminder that once this is done….. it’s done. It almost feels like false hope. Those songs will never be performed live, as they were intended. They may only ever be played in the dark of night, on an acoustic guitar, in a moment of weakness. The vulnerability may have subsided, and I may be able to sleep in a slightly darker room without my imagination taking over now, but listening to Christina’s cover of Hold On, We’re Going Home, doesn’t make me feel any less hollow than it did the week after her death when that’s all I listened to. (You know that feeling you get, when you’ve eaten the same thing over and over and over again in one sitting, and the taste doesn’t change or vary in any way, and eventually you reach a point of still being hungry but not wanting to continue eating because the taste is making you sick? That’s how it feels.) (I know it’s oddly specific, that’s the only way I can describe it.)
From 6/11: Some Follow-Up Thoughts; Vulnerability and Fear. Written on cheyennenielsen.tumblr.com "Five days have passed since the murder of Christina Grimmie, and although I wasn’t there to account for it first hand, the after effects from hearing about it have sure made me feel like it. // I’ve found myself crying every single day since Monday, at one point or another. Sometimes even more than once. Which inevitably has led me into such a heightened state of vulnerability that I’ve literally never felt; the smallest, habitual, and most normal things I do have come to seem too emotionally overwhelming. My fear of the dark has redeveloped, although I’ve always had it in the back of my mind. Usually I’m fine with a little light illuminating the room, as long as I have sound to fill the empty spaces as well, but the past couple of nights, I’ve left the bathroom light on, my TV on, and I’ve had a YouTube video playing from my phone, to fall asleep without question. It has worked like a charm, along with surrounding myself in blankets, but I’m hoping this passes. I don’t like wasting energy."