Some nights I have this blurred vision,
where we dance in a dream to the songs that we love.
Those songs have play for the lonely souls who where singing along
when it wasnít enough just to hope,
and to pray that their bodyís somehow find the strength.
And they all carry on.
They want nothing but to be better off...
and Iíve hurt
and I've aged,
but I found it in my heart to believe.
In May it will be a full year since you were taken from us.
For the last 6 or 7 months, someone came and filled the void.
You were never replaced, but the pain was somewhat alleviated for the time being.
Last month everything changed again.
I really didn't think that I could feel that sad again, but it happened.
We're finding new things to occupy our time--to rebuild ourselves.
I'm trying to fix my life.
My priorities have changed and I finally figured out exactly want I want from the next five years.
It's just a matter of getting there.
I haven't had a dream about you since your accident. All my "dreams" are just the memories that we've already shared.
I go to shows that I know you would have loved and I imagine how it would be if you were there.
You're always in my thoughts and sometimes I wonder if you realize the kind of impact you had on people.
Just know that you're here....you're always here within us somehow.
Chris, we're still lonely souls, just trying to be better off.
We're really trying..............
"Now I sit alone, now I sit alone, in pain.
wishing you were here. you had so much going on.
well I never had a chance, never had the chance, to tell you.
your friendship was better than anything else.
the ones that we need are the ones that we're losing.
why doesn't this make sense at all?
oh I hope you're listening."
This can be said for a lot of different people and situations.
Tonight I saw The Sleeping played at School of Rock and they killed it.
On my way to the show I thought about what I usually think about 99.9% of the time on the drive to and from the venue:
"I wish Chris would get back from his winter vacation so we could hang out again."
Except, I know he's not on winter vacation...it only just feels that way.
Come the 13th he will have be passed on for nine months.
I guess to ease the pain I try to think of it as though he's just on a trip and we're all awaiting his return.
We all know and understand the truth, even if we still save a seat for him at our favorite hangout and occasionally make a toast in his name.
I wonder if he ever realized that he was our stress relief. He'd laugh off the problems and did his best to fix everything.
I think we needed him more than he realized.
Nine months later, here we are.
Still very much broken and bruised, but we're doing our best to hold each other together.
We make new routines and traditions so that we can laugh and continue on without dwelling and breaking down.
All we really have is each other, and I think for the most part, that we try to make the best of it.
Because, we still have the chance to make something good and real out of our life.
xcaseyx (12:42:01 AM): this band might be better then Kings Of Leon xcaseyx (12:42:01 AM): http://www.myspace.com/wearephoenix Me: (12:49:40 AM): sounds so good xcaseyx (12:49:51 AM): it's amazing xcaseyx (12:50:07 AM): it was Chris's favorite band i think
Chris never mentioned this band to me before he died but he was definitely on to something. If only he was around to see their success, he'd probably think it was really cool for a minute and then grumble that it's over played on that car commercial. ha.
I can't help but want to get my hands on everything this band has released. It's one of the few ways I can hold Chris close, without him actually being here.
Right now I pretty much have Promise of Redemption and Valencia playing when I get bring myself to listen to anything. Yes it seems cliche of me, but both albums touch on the pain, grieving, and life after loosing a loved one. This is exactly what I need right now.
This particular song, Live in Love, is about a specific person, but I feel as though a lot of it can be applied to what is currently going on around me:
Also, thank you to everyone who has reached out to me.
It's a struggle to keep it together but your words kind of ease the pain a little bit.
Thank you for thinking of me.
I really don't know how to start an entry like this without breaking into a million pieces.
Chris Brightman was a very dear friend of mine and was a member of this community.
The last anyone had heard from Chris was from his Twitter early Wednesday morning how he wasn't sure how he would get home from the bar. He was supposed to work a show at the School of Rock that Wednesday night and when I had arrived at the venue, I was told that he had been missing the entire day. The last anyone had seen of him was at a pizza place not far from the bar...still unsure about getting home.
You never think the worst. You assume that perhaps his phone is dead and he stayed with a friend or perhaps he just went someone for the day to be alone since he had done this in the past.
At 1:30PM on Thursday afternoon I was informed that Chris had died leaving the bar early Wednesday morning.
It's been a year since I felt my world shatter from a phone call. What do you do when a person that you talk to every single day and spend time with at least every other week no longer exists? How do you possibly try and rationalize it?
What I can say is that people from coast to coast knew Chris.
Perhaps you attended a show at The School of Rock, The Knitting Factory, Mexicali Blues, Highline Ballroom, or any show in the NJ/NYC area that he worked or attended. Maybe he helped your band load/unload from a venue or worked the lights for a show you played. Maybe you were a fan of Halifax or just the ExcessDB company and were a part of the street teams that he was in charge of.
If you didn't join in one of his threads here on absolutepunk, you might have been friends with him on twitter -- laughing at his updates.
Or possibly you were in the late night AP chats that he briefly took part in on stickam.
The last time I saw him was at Bamboozle trying to promote the band he was just starting to manage called, The Talk About. That Saturday night after the festival, he came to our hotel room to hang with me and several AP members to drink. He didn't care that he didn't know anyone, he just wanted to hangout and have fun. The last time I spoke to him was the day he died, when he IMed me while I was at work.
I don't understand why this happened. Why people leave this place so early before their time is up. I try to rationalize his actions--try to figure out why things played out the way they did and how I could have helped. Trying to come up with a conclusion just hurts more.
I don't know why these things happen. All I know is that they have the ability to destroy a person's heart and spirit. The best you can do is surround yourself with people who are going through the same emotions--the people who cared and loved Chris just the same.
I won't be able to hug him, laugh with him, dance, eat or drink with, talk to or lean on him ever again. Chris took care of his friends. Most people who met him adored him for his ability to make them laugh and just be a cool, laid back guy. The only things I have left are pictures and videos that people took. I will hold on as long as I can to the memories in my mind and heart.
There's a benefit show that is in the works to help raise money for his funeral costs. I'll post more information when I can. So far, the show will probably happen at The School of Rock.
That's all for now. I'm just trying to get through the rest of the week without falling apart.
I'll miss you buddy. I hope we can dance in our dreams.