Home Is Where the Bodies Are

by Jeneva Rose

Death reminds us that life isn’t infinite and that one day, our time will come too.

It’s odd. Some people never see it coming, others have a countdown, and I don’t know which is worse.

Death waits for no one.

She told me flowers reminded her of life—beautiful, delicate, and short-lived.

There’s not many things you can count on in life, but that . . . is one thing you can count on. It will rise and it will fall—no matter what. Don’t matter if you’re sick or sad. Don’t matter if there is war or there is peace. Don’t matter if you see it or you don’t. That sun. You can count on it.

It’s true what they say about the lights going out when a person passes. Her eyes sit still and dark. Her mouth hangs partially open.

If you can control your emotions, you can control anything.

Or I’m going crazy. I’ve actually never understood that saying. Going crazy . . . because crazy isn’t a place you go, it comes right to you.

It’s funny how memory works. Our brain decides what’s most important and retains it—the rest, it just lets go. Song lyrics we remember for years, decades even. Are they important? Most likely not. But they’re tied to salient moments.

I’m only sucking in enough air to survive, not enough to thrive. But I’ve felt that way about life for a long time.

A year ago, she determined I wasn’t worth saving. I can still hear her words. They cut deep, deeper than any physical injury I had ever endured.

I can’t have you in my life, Nicole. I’ve tried to help you, but every time I do, I get burned worse than the last. I don’t even know who you are anymore, because you sure as hell aren’t my sister.

I’ve never been fond of eye contact. It feels too intimate. It’s a way to establish trust—but no one should trust me. I don’t even trust myself.

Her personality has always been all or nothing, which worries me sometimes. Zero or a hundred makes the middle, where everyday life exists, feel like a slump.

“Guilt can eat you slowly or swallow you whole.”

She hasn’t encountered loss like I have, so she can’t fathom it. But I know the worst things always happen in an instant, and once you’ve experienced it, you’ll forever be on the lookout, bracing yourself for it to happen again. It’s both a blessing and a curse because it forces you to live in the moment while also fearing the next.

Addiction is like having your arm in a vise.

“Anger is easy, Rebecca. It’s the most rudimentary of human feelings. Babies experience anger. Psychopaths experience anger. People with little to no brain activity experience anger. But compassion and forgiveness are challenging. They’re the most complex of all the emotions. So, no . . . I’m not angry with them.”