Daily Archives: June 2, 2012, 5:59 am

this is all too familiar

this is all too familiar
by jennifer kiley

on june 3rd, i will be celebrating the birthday of my significant other and i will also be honoring the sudden death of someone i loved many years ago more than my own life. she died in a car accident while driving my car and i was her co-pilot. my sports car excited her, so whenever we would travel somewhere, i would always let her do the driving. we had plans. the next semester of college we were going to attend the some school. i had my scholarship. she had her own plans on how to afford the tuition fees. our world was ahead of us and our lives together were only just beginning. that week i was to move in with her. it was only just a formality, because i slept at her apartment everynight and we spent most of the days and nights together. i had become her world.

she told me that she felt i was the only person she could trust. that everyone just wanted something from her but didn’t give anything in return. she told me i was different, that i wanted to give her what she needed and did not ask for anything in return. that isn’t totally true. i loved her and wanted her to be loved without reservation. i didn’t want her to feel like i was with her for what i could get from her. she was a special woman that i would do anything for, anythng at all. our lives were ahead of us.

but the fates were not on our side that night of june 3rd. while driving in the opposite direction from home on the freeway, to see a woman whom she had broken off with in order to free her life from those who wanted to own her. we were going toward danger. this woman hated me and wanted me out of my friend’s life. she would do anything to see that this would happen. on the way to this woman’s place we entered into a dimension that was other worldly. it was just moments before we crashed into the guard rail that was just after exit 13 on the freeway. the impact that the car made and the speed that we were traveling, caused our car to fly into the air, go into the motions of a roll and flip for over 150 feet. the endless crashing sounds, the blackness that surrounded us, made it feel like an eternity, that it would never stop. eventully, it did. suddenly, there was total silence all around us. we were in a complete blackness. my senses were distorted. i felt that i was dead. that the world had ended. i managed to get some sense of awareness. i called out my fried’s name. no answer or sound was returned. i couldn’t move at first. then my survival instincts literally kicked in. my feet started kicking at anything that i could make contact with. it happened to be the passesnger door. i was able, after a struggle, to push it open and maneuver myself out of the car. it was upside down. when i was out and able to stand, i didn’t check myself for injuries but just rushed to the other side of the car to find out how my friend was doing. her door wasn’t there or my memory isn’t clear but there she was lying upside down, trapped in her seat. i reached in to feel if she was breathing. her lungs were expanding her chest. people and other cars were stopping. the police and ambulances had been contacted. there was this one woman who took ahold of me while the rescue people were trying to get my friend out from the smashed car. i struggled with this woman but she wouldn’t let me go. she told me: “let the people work to rescue your friend.” but i couldn’t see what they were doing.

they came for me, to take me in the ambulance to the hospital. i asked about my friend. they told me she was going in a different ambulance and that we would all meet up at the same hospital. time flashed by and the next thing i knew i was getting x-rays. the questions from me started. i wanted to know about what was happening with my friend. no matter who i asked, no one would tell me anything. there answers were always that i should talk to the doctor when he came to see me. finally the doctor arrived. while he did an examination on me in silence, i broke the quiet and asked: “how was “****” (my friend)? the doctor said: “she is not here.” but i told him the ambulance person said that they were bringing us both to this hospital. sounding bothered and frustrated, he blurted out: “no, you don’t understand, she is dead.” blunt and direct as can be, he slapped me in the face with those three words: “she is dead.”

my brain exploded inside of my head. all of my controls were lost and i started to scream. the scream started but it wouldn’t stop. everyone in that er tried to calm me down but i was lost inside of pure, anguishing pain.

a priest came to talk to me, telling me to calm down and to be quiet. that the words i shouted through the screams were unnecessary to speak out loud. those words were: “i love her. i love her. i love her.” he told me that i didn’t want to expose myself as a ‘homosexual’ to the world. he whispered the word “homosexual.” i told him i was not going to hide my feelings for her. that i loved her and there was nothing wrong with that. then angrily, i told him to leave. basically, i ordered him to leave me alone and go.

the police came next. they must have thought i was out of my mind when i answered there questions about what i thought caused the accident. i told them her old girl friend had someone tamper with the car. that she had tried to kill us both but she was only successful in killing my friend. they said they would check into it. eventually, another friend of mine and her family showed up in the middle of the night to come and get me. by that time i had quieted down but i felt destroyed inside.

the days that followed, my therapist visited me, my father acted like a jackass about my feelings for my friend who was now dead and he questioned me about my supposed sexual relationship with my gay male friend who came to be with me for the funeral. he was with me the first night that i first saw her across a dance floor and fell in love with her.

the funeral was a nightmare.the cementary was worse. i couldn’t get out of the car. i broke down sobbing again. eventually, with assistance walking, i went over to the grace site. later, i repeated the same scene outside of the wake before and afterwards. i was taking valium and also drinking at the wake. everywhere i went i kept falling down on my knees and sobbing. i couldn’t bare the pain. when we all got back to my parents house, once again, down on my knees in the driveway crying. i could barely contain myself. inside the house, i kneeled down in the living room, still crying. another female friend and my mother started pushing valium down my throat. no one knew what to do for me. my crying was out of control.

at the funeral parlor, when i was sitting behind my friends family, i heard her mother say: “why was it my daughter and not her? my daughter was special. she should not have died.” well, i felt the same way. why was i still alive? i put a great deal of thought, meditation, smoking the pot my mother swore later on that she never bought for me, and reading the correct passages from The Tibetan Book of the Dead, i wanted to help guide my friend through all the places one goes through before the ultimate place is reached. i wanted to help her try to understand where she was going.

the answer to the question, why was i still alive? there must be some grand purpose for me to be left here on earth? my friend’s death drastically changed the course of my life. there are no what ifs’ except in one’s imagination.

i found out a few months later, while speaking to a woman who knew about the white and black arts, often referred to as magic, that a ritual that my friend’s former girlfriend and this dark, strange man performed on the two of us, was to cast a spell of death. not my friend’s death, but it was meant for me. this all may sound quite strange. it did to me at the time. but i have had time to reflect and all the pieces fit together. my friend wasn’t suppose to die, i was. her former girlfriend wanted me out of the way, in a complete way. i am too protected by my guardian angels but my friend that was killed was too vulnerable. the first time we were alone together, she told me of a dream that she had where she was killed. a few months later, i had the same dream and sat bolt upright in her bed. the dream was the exact events that happened the night of the “accident.” when i told the police that someone had killed my friend. i thought i was being delirious but there was more truth in my words that night then i even imagined.

i have never forgotten that night. it was too powerfully etched into my mind and memory. So when i met the woman i live with now in New Haven, CT, she was visiting from another state. i got to know her through Yale Lesbians and my co-producing a Gay & Lesbian Radio Show at the Yale Campus Radio Station. i felt extremely attracted to her. then during a night at a New Haven Gay & Lesbian bar, while we were talking, she told me the date of her birthday. it was the same date, June 3rd, as the night the woman i was in love with died. i looked upon this as a monumental message of fate that we were meant to meet. later on, i realized we were serendipitously brought together so that we could spend our lives together. we had an amazing love growing within of us for each other.

it has always been a difficult time each year to have such a split in my emotions. i would celebrate my s/o’s birthday and deep in my heart i would mourn the death of a woman who meant everything to me. they both did. i have never forgotten her. i also love very much the women i have loved for these many years we have been together. i see us growing old and hopefully the goddess will be kind and let me die before my s/o b/c i could not bare to live one moment without her.

the opposite of loneliness is to have an open heart, and to let love in freely and continuously, no matter the pain that the joy of love can bring.

RIP all those who are taken too soon. who do not get to live out a full and complete life. who knows what would have been that can never be?

forever young – alphaville

the opposite of loneliness

University | 3:10 a.m. | May. 27, 2012 | By Marina Keegan

KEEGAN: The Opposite of Loneliness

Marina Keegan Yale Class of 2012 – died at age 22

Marina Keegan ’12. Photo by Facebook.

The piece below was written by Marina Keegan ’12 for a special edition of the News distributed at the class of 2012′s commencement exercises last week. Keegan died in a car accident on Saturday. She was 22.

We don’t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I could say that’s what I want in life. What I’m grateful and thankful to have found at Yale, and what I’m scared of losing when we wake up tomorrow and leave this place.

It’s not quite love and it’s not quite community; it’s just this feeling that there are people, an abundance of people, who are in this together. Who are on your team. When the check is paid and you stay at the table. When it’s four a.m. and no one goes to bed. That night with the guitar. That night we can’t remember. That time we did, we went, we saw, we laughed, we felt. The hats.

Yale is full of tiny circles we pull around ourselves. A cappella groups, sports teams, houses, societies, clubs. These tiny groups that make us feel loved and safe and part of something even on our loneliest nights when we stumble home to our computers — partner-less, tired, awake. We won’t have those next year. We won’t live on the same block as all our friends. We won’t have a bunch of group-texts.

This scares me. More than finding the right job or city or spouse – I’m scared of losing this web we’re in. This elusive, indefinable, opposite of loneliness. This feeling I feel right now.

But let us get one thing straight: the best years of our lives are not behind us. They’re part of us and they are set for repetition as we grow up and move to New York and away from New York and wish we did or didn’t live in New York. I plan on having parties when I’m 30. I plan on having fun when I’m old. Any notion of THE BEST years comes from clichéd “should haves…” “if I’d…” “wish I’d…”

Of course, there are things we wished we did: our readings, that boy across the hall. We’re our own hardest critics and it’s easy to let ourselves down. Sleeping too late. Procrastinating. Cutting corners. More than once I’ve looked back on my High School self and thought: how did I do that? How did I work so hard? Our private insecurities follow us and will always follow us.

But the thing is, we’re all like that. Nobody wakes up when they want to. Nobody did all of their reading (except maybe the crazy people who win the prizes…) We have these impossibly high standards and we’ll probably never live up to our perfect fantasies of our future selves. But I feel like that’s okay.

We’re so young. We’re so young. We’re twenty-two years old. We have so much time. There’s this sentiment I sometimes sense, creeping in our collective conscious as we lay alone after a party, or pack up our books when we give in and go out – that it is somehow too late. That others are somehow ahead. More accomplished, more specialized. More on the path to somehow saving the world, somehow creating or inventing or improving. That it’s too late now to BEGIN a beginning and we must settle for continuance, for commencement.

When we came to Yale, there was this sense of possibility. This immense and indefinable potential energy – and it’s easy to feel like that’s slipped away. We never had to choose and suddenly we’ve had to. Some of us have focused ourselves. Some of us know exactly what we want and are on the path to get it; already going to med school, working at the perfect NGO, doing research. To you I say both congratulations and you suck.

For most of us, however, we’re somewhat lost in this sea of liberal arts. Not quite sure what road we’re on and whether we should have taken it. If only I had majored in biology…if only I’d gotten involved in journalism as a freshman…if only I’d thought to apply for this or for that…

What we have to remember is that we can still do anything. We can change our minds. We can start over. Get a post-bac or try writing for the first time. The notion that it’s too late to do anything is comical. It’s hilarious. We’re graduating college. We’re so young. We can’t, we MUST not lose this sense of possibility because in the end, it’s all we have.

In the heart of a winter Friday night my freshman year, I was dazed and confused when I got a call from my friends to meet them at EST EST EST. Dazedly and confusedly, I began trudging to SSS, probably the point on campus farthest away. Remarkably, it wasn’t until I arrived at the door that I questioned how and why exactly my friends were partying in Yale’s administrative building. Of course, they weren’t. But it was cold and my ID somehow worked so I went inside SSS to pull out my phone. It was quiet, the old wood creaking and the snow barely visible outside the stained glass. And I sat down. And I looked up. At this giant room I was in. At this place where thousands of people had sat before me. And alone, at night, in the middle of a New Haven storm, I felt so remarkably, unbelievably safe.

We don’t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I’d say that’s how I feel at Yale. How I feel right now. Here. With all of you. In love, impressed, humbled, scared. And we don’t have to lose that.

We’re in this together, 2012. Let’s make something happen to this world.

**************************************************************************************

by jennifer kiley
(follow to the next post: “this is all too familiar” and it will help to understand why i choose to exhibit this post. thank you.)

the opposite of loneliness is to have an open heart, and to let love in freely and continuously, no matter the pain that the joy of love can bring.

RIP all those who are taken too soon. who do not get to live out a full and complete life. who knows what would have been that can never be?

forever young – alphaville