anything and everything.

this blog isn't about me today. well it is, but it's not about my workouts or how much I miss mountain dew. if you don't like what I have to blog about, I invite you to click the red X at the top right of your screen, and leave now and never come back. I feel like if you read my blog on a regular basis, you must know me in real life or give a shit about me in some way. This post, like most others, is to help me process and explain how I feel and what's happening. so here goes.

my brother passed away last Tuesday morning. He was 25.

This week has been a blur, and it's been the longest week of my life. it's been 8 days, and I haven't seen my brother who will likely be referred to as "brosef" because that's what I called him, talked to him or even got a super annoying "what up" text. It's hard to believe that I won't ever get to see him again while I'm alive. My brother was one of the best people you could have ever hoped to meet, and I mean that in a non-traditional sense. He wasn't a gentle, soft spoken guy. He was a rough, vulgar like his sister, fighter. If my brosef liked you, he would do anything in his power to help you. He spent his years in the Madison county school system getting in fist fights, half of them protecting me because I was bullied a lot. I was in 6th grade, he was in 7th. I was being bullied in the cafeteria, this boy (to this day I couldn't tell you who it was) was picking off pieces of his food and throwing them at me, and I was sitting there crying, per my usual. It just so happened that this day, Zach saw it. Then he proceeded to walk over to this tiny middle school terrorist and hit him, repeatedly. Zach didn't ask him any questions, like was my sister the intended target, he didn't threaten him, he didn't say anything. My brosef broke his hand in 3 places during that fight, and that boy never looked at me again. Zach was an ass kicker first and question asker second. I believe with all my heart he was born without the fear gene. He never thought twice about anything and I know without a shadow of a doubt my brother would have fought hell with a squirt gun for me. Zach had has issues, like we all do, but sometimes his were more public. That didn't make him a bad person, it just made people look down their nose at him like he was a second class citizen. and to those people, he always threw up a middle finger. like I'm doing right now. If you knew Zach, you knew what a heart of gold he had. Yeah, he would fight at the drop of a hat but if you ever needed anything, you could call him. It didn't matter how many times I ignored his phone calls, when I called him he answered by the 3rd ring, no matter what. Seriously. One day a few months ago, I ignored his calls for a few days because I was busy and didn't feel like talking. I called him to see if he had anything to clean out my car with, and he answered on the second ring and then helped me clean out my car. My brosef was a hustler, and he was really smart. I miss him more than anything, and I'm sad that I didn't love him enough while he was here. I ignored countless phone calls and made excuses as to why I couldn't hang out with him, and I wish I could take that back. But I know that if he were here, he would say "dont' cry nessie, it's okay". It doesn't matter how old I am, he always called me "nessie" which is how that nickname got started, and he would always refer to me and rebecca as "the girls".

Zach was also referred to scarface later in life. He had a scar on the outside of his right eye because when we were little, we were playing cowboys and indians in the yard, and I threw a stick and caught him right in the corner of the eye. I got the beating of my life for that one. Then the first and only car wreck I was in, I was driving zach to get some dinner and we got hit, and he got a cut right across his forehead. Then the chainsaw incident about a year ago. He legit was scarface, but he didn't care. He had a confidence about him that he knew he was a great person. He was simple sometimes. We buried him in a blue plaid shirt that he always wore when he was going somewhere important, like TGI Fridays, dark blue jeans and boots. He always had a knife in his pocket, too. Zach could do more push ups than anyone I've ever seen. He always helped me win at call of duty when Noah, Rebecca, Zach and I had battle royals during the snowpocalypse of 2010. We would all trek down to nannys and play for hours/


it's the little things that are the hardest. Like knowing that I'll never hear his voice again, get a "what up" or "what u doin" text message from him, or him call and ask if I want him to cook dinner. His go to meal at all times was shake and bake bbq chicken, velveeta shells and cheese, instant mashed potatoes with sour cream and crescent rolls. and they were the most fucked up crescent rolls you ever cared to look at. and sometimes brownies and ice cream after that. that was his JAM. He won't be here to offer to cook that for my birthday. It's hard to be excited to turn 24 when your siblings just became singular.

I just try move on with my life with the knowledge that first of all, he wouldn't want me to sit around and cry all day. Where my brother is now, well, he's in paradise. His demons are conquered and the hurt of this world doesn't have a hold of him anymore. If I could say anything to him right now it would be that I'm sorry I didn't spend more time with you or appreciate you as much as I should have, but I love you and I'll miss you every single day until I see you again.

I'm gonna get a bitchin' tattoo soon in his honor. My brosef sent me letters from rehab, and I kept them. I'm getting the end of one of the letters tattooed in his handwriting, on my left wrist. "I'll see you soon. I love you, -Zach"...I can't decide if I feel like the "see you soon part" makes me seem suicidal, but I'll figure that out soon.

As far as I go, I'm tired as hell and I feel like I'm never going to feel "normal" again. I cried in the middle of my back/tricep workout at the rush yesterday. it wasn't even about zach, it was just about the fact that there was SO many people there and apparently EVERYONE wanted the machines I needed and I just wanted to go home. I've slept about 8 hours in the last 2 days and mountain dew can't even wake me up. I'm just ready for some peace and quiet, ya know?

anyways, sorry this isn't really what you guys like to read. it's not rude and snarky and completely ridiculous. but it's my blog and I do what I want. hopefully I can get my sassy pants back on soon...if I still fit in them :P