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neonshrine · 3 months

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Yesterday it was 13 years.

For some reason the only way that I can like wrap my head around it being 13 years is by thinking of it as "his death is a teenager." There were kids born in 2011 that are becoming teenagers. It's such a weird thought, and has absolutely nothing to do with Robby. Death can't be a "teenager."

When my mom broke the news to me, I have never felt so numb in my entire life. I didn't cry for hours. It wasn't until Becca (Robby, Becca and I were sort of the Three Musketeers of the neighborhood, if you will), came over that I finally cried. It didn't feel real, and in a lot of ways it still doesn't.

His parents asked me and Becca to speak at his funeral. I didn't get to go. I had a 102.7 degree fever. I went to the viewing with a 101 degree fever because I refused to miss it. One of my biggest regrets is not going to his funeral. I know funerals are for the living and not the dead, and I probably wouldn't have gotten through any words I would've hastily slapped together but I will always feel like I let him down by not going.

His dad and step-mom had a small get together that weekend for the neighborhood people to stop in and out. I was well enough to attend that, and just sat in Robby's bedroom in the basement. His dad came down to sit with me and let me cry on him for what felt like hours. It was probably one of the most selfish things I had ever done. Crying to the man who had just lost his oldest son. I apologized another day for being so insanely unthoughtful. I'll never forget his response.

"Why wouldn't I want to comfort my daughter when she lost her brother?"

I remember Becca being the first one to anger, which at the time pissed me off. She'd throw out things about it being "selfish," and she'd never forgive him for leaving us. In retrospect, I understand it now. We both know a lot more about addiction and how it impacts everyone in vastly different ways. Becca was always more of the "he needs tough love," approach. I was always more of the "he has to figure it out on his own," approach.

Sometimes I think Becca still holds me partially responsible for Robby not getting the help he needed. I don't think she means to. I think if I straight up asked her she'd tell me she doesn't, but I think it's because I was just as young and stupid and would frequently get high as well. I never used the hard stuff that he did, but that's no excuse. I really fucked it up. How could he possibly listen to him beg and plead to get help, when I was getting high as well? Yeah, weed and heroin are very very different beasts - but he'd give me the most infuriating "really?" look, and I had no backbone with him. I didn't want the fight. I didn't want the last things he said to me to be things out of anger.

Goddamn it was a lot for me to deal with for as long as I did - as young as I was.

There's still a debate to this day between friends and family about whether the "accidental overdose" was accidental or not. There's no doubt he died of a heroin overdose. Toxicology reports don't lie. Robby suffered from severe depression and had one prior suicide attempt when he was 15. His parents divorced when he was 3, his dad remarried (I was never a fan of his step-mom), had two more boys and adopted a daughter from Russia. Robby lived with his mom who never remarried, who (from what Robby told me) bad mouthed his dad religiously, and who wouldn't want him to even visit his dad. Depression also ran in his family. One time he told me he thought he was cursed. "All [redacted] men have severe depression. Our family curse."

Some believe he overdosed on purpose and they had been concerned for weeks that he was going to do something. Some think it was purely an accident but are glad he's "at peace."

Fucking bullshit, man. That wasn't peace. That's no way to go out.

Me? I don't have an opinion. All I know is my brother died. I don't care if he did it on purpose or if he did it accidentally. He just is no longer here.

For some reason 13 years hit me hard. The first was brutal. Year two was hard. Years three and four were... okay. Year five was rough because of that arbitrary milestone. Years six through nine, I feel like were easy. I think one of those years I actually forgot until a week later and then proceeded to feel insanely guilty. Year 10 was hard - another arbitrary milestone. Years 11 and 12... were fine. So why 13?

Robby's youngest brother Matthew is the age that Robby was when he died, and for some reason that hit hard. Matt reached out and said he was having a hard time with knowing that his birthday is in four months, and couldn't stop thinking about what Robby had been doing four months before his birthday (which is March 5 - so November 2010) that he didn't get to see. That it was an eerie feeling to be having. He said Colin (Robby's other younger brother) hadn't had that feeling. I don't know why, but this all bothered me even more. His brothers have gone 13 years without him. They went from being babies to grown men and Robby never saw any of it.

A lot of times I think about all of the things I've experienced that I didn't get to share with Robby. He never got to see me get something back from Mike, which I know would've made him roll his eyes. He didn't get to come to my housewarming party. He wasn't there to help pick up the pieces when I last got my heartbroken. He wasn't there to threaten to beat up my old boss. He didn't get to go to Becca's baby shower. He has no idea her son is named after him.

I miss him.

What died didn't stay dead. You're alive, you're alive in my head.

Here's 13 things one has to know about Robby:

1.) Him and I would play house, and one time he legitimately got upset and cried because he wanted to be the family dog and not the daddy.

2.) One time, we tried climbing out of his bedroom window using kite string. His dad put a stop to that one real fast.

3.) When I had my first kiss, he was the first person I told. He told me that was disgusting and I would probably get a disease and die.

4.) Years later he told me he had just been mad he hadn't been my first kiss because he thought it would be easier to practice on me until he got it right but could never figure out how to tell me that. Romantic.

5.) He was in a fairly popular pop punk band that did Warped Tour and what not. They were on the verge of actually making it when he died. Sometimes I wonder if the pressure was too much.

6.) He had a Collie named "Tillie."

7.) He had a very strange love for Dr. Dre. I have no idea where or how it started. It was like one day he didn't know a thing about Dre and the next he knew everything.

8.) He swore up and down Hoobastank was amazing and ahead of their time. We saw them open for Incubus and at the end of their set he just goes "TOLD YOU."

9.) When we were three, our moms took us to the theatre for the first time. I have no idea what we saw. What I do know is Robby and I fell asleep in the same seat and missed the entire movie.

10.) Every summer him and his dad would hold a wiffle ball party. It was all very serious. We'd make banners to hang on the fence line. The adults would get t-shirts printed so we'd have uniforms.

11.) He was an artist. He played guitar. He wrote song lyrics. He sketched all the time. His brain was always creating.

12.) He tried teaching me to skateboard once. It didn't go well and he blamed it on me being short. It had nothing to do with me being short.

13.) He would've laid his life down, no hesitation, for anyone and everyone that he cared about.

I miss him terribly.

I know my brother he went one way, and at the fork I heard him say: "Don't you follow, don't go making my mistakes." And I realized what he meant, don't kill yourself to raise the dead. It never works you'll only end up joining them.

For awhile after his death all I wanted to do not feel anything, so I drank. A lot. I've been drinking a lot. The last two months I've had more than I have in a very very long time. I didn't even realize why I was drinking so much until yesterday, when I had my last one and the thought of actually having to like sit with my thoughts sober was not a really enticing idea. It's still not. I'm drinking as I'm typing this, but I've at least recognized WHY I've been drinking like I have been. I don't want to join Robby. I just need to get myself together.

If I didn't know better, I'd think you were still around. I know better, but I still feel you all around. I know better, but you're still around.

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