Page 64 of Behind the Bars

I never mentioned the weight, the burn to anyone, because I knew they’d all tell me it wasn’t my fault. In my mind, in my heart, and in my soul, I knew the truth, and I’d feel that suffering each and everyday.

Over time, I became annoyed with Jasmine’s notes, her thoughtfulness, her care…her heart, herhope.

I didn’t want anything to do with hope. I didn’t want anything to do with feeling a split second of happiness, because I deserved thesadness.

I read the stupid pamphlets, too—each one, about twentytimes.

The one I read the most wasThe Seven Stages ofGrief.

I found it interesting, the way they laid it out soclearly.

First, there was shock anddenial.

I’d felt that one head-on, but it had quickly moved on to stage two: pain and guilt. The pain never really disappeared, though. It just shifted to stage three:anger.

Anger had hit me hard. I was angry at the world, angry at myself for not being strong enough to help Katie, for not being man enough to saveher.

Then, I hit loneliness, and that’s where I failed with the seven stages ofgrief.

I hovered back and forth between anger andloneliness.

I didn’t move on to the upward turn, reconstruction, oracceptance.

I just simmered in the darkness of my aching pain. I separated myself from the world. Each day, I grew darker. Each day, I lost myselfmore.

Instead of playing music, I started doing push-ups.

Instead of going to Frenchmen Street, I started liftingweights.

I’ll be strongenough.

I’ll be strongenough…

Over the years, my body began to change. I became obsessed with being strong. Each day, heavier weights—each night, fewer feelings. I took part in anything and everything that would make me gain weight and muscle. I worked hard each day to becomestronger.

Igrew.

Ishifted.

I workedhard.

Ichanged.

And somehow, someway, I lost everything that made me…me.

I kept to myself, because if no one was near me, how could they get hurt? I became a ghost of a man, once who existed in the world but was no longer part ofit.

The music in me had died the day my sister left this earth, and the melody of my heart was officiallymute.

Chapter Nineteen

Jasmine

Inever heardfrom Elliottagain.

I never again kissed the lips of the boy who loved me. I never again saw those hazel eyes. I never again received an email from him, telling me he missedme.

As time went on, life became harder…tougher…darker.

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