Driving and Crying...

I don’t like being alone. I guess I have never really been alone before. When I was little Mum was always around and Carrie was only 18 months younger than me—so I don’t remember her not being there. When we moved to Fulton, I felt lonely at first, but Carrie and I just became closer and then eventually I made new friends—but Carrie was always my best friend. When I left for college that was the hardest part—leaving Carrie. I wasn’t scared of leaving Fulton, I had already moved once; I knew I could find more friends. Enter Meredith, Kelley, Marshall, Corey, Zach, Anna, Gordon, and a host of others. In college I was rarely lonely! There was always someone new to meet. Then Carrie came to college with me and I thought life couldn’t possible get better. Most of my friends all lived in the same house with me—officially just Miranda, Meredith and Carrie (plus an unofficial Kelley). People were always dropping in to visit us (Marshall and friends). We baked cookies and drank tea (just ask Meredith). Then just when I thought life couldn’t get any better, I met James. James and I have been best friends even before Carrie died, but he never would and never will replace her. In the past year I have been alone a lot. When you loose someone I think you need a lot of time to yourself and perhaps other people where just afraid to approach me. Now, I am constantly around people again and it is really comforting. I have missed being around people. I am not reclusive by nature. Sometimes I think the only times I am by myself now are when I am driving. I guess that is why I just burst into tears every other time I am alone in my car. I don’t like crying in front of people but there is a sense of anonymity about high way driving and crying. You probably don’t know the other drivers and they probably don’t know you. When I am by myself for more than 20-30 minutes I start feeling lonely. The loneliness reminds me that Carrie is gone and she is never coming back. I miss her so much all the time. But at those moments it seems unbearable and I just start crying. I was in the teachers’ lounge at Lafayette HS on Thursday making copies during lunch and this other teacher who was there for some Technology Discovery seminar asks me about my degrees—did I go to Ole Miss and who did I have as professors. It turned out that she and I had a professor in common. She then just randomly starts talking about how she lost her father during her last semester of college and she went on to say that she actually lost him fathers’ day weekend (the same weekend we lost Carrie). She then volunteered that she had decided to write about it and get it published. She said that it really helped her. It was strange because even though I hadn’t told her anything about my loss she was sitting there giving me suggestions about how to deal with my loss. We didn’t even exchange names! I thanked her, briefly explained my difficulties in dealing with loosing Carrie and she was very helpful and empathetic. All in all it was a very strange conversation, but it is probably why I am writing about driving and crying…