You're Scared? That's Great! Now Jump.

I'm not an authority of loss but I may confidently state that grief is not a form of weakness or a lack of faith; grief is the price of love.

One man's decision does not define him. I know this sentiment well, as I have made countless mistakes that I believed in no matter how the sway of others nor the facts.  Try as I may to circumvent the inevitable or pad the tread I lightly walk, I may also say that I know pain, I know struggle, I know desperation. I know a life that has been emotionally difficult and trying since my father's passing and through the sadness of losing my brother which I combat daily. I've lost two great loves and two magnificent men. My trio is down to one.

When my brother passed away almost two years ago, someone offered a consolation that was intended to comfort my heart like a tender kiss to a forehead, but it instead came off as absurd and senseless when he said, "Maybe your brother sacrificed himself to show you to live. Maybe he's gone so that you are gifted with the life he always wanted for you". Charley took his life so that I may have one? No, he didn't die for me. 
And no, my brother didn't die for me and I'm not experiencing the pain of his passing because his soul signed on a dotted line to die at the age of 36 by the hand of crushing emotion and and self-destructive thoughts. No, he died for himself and only himself. No, there's no one worth taking his life for.
Even in his last Earth-bound moments, my brother is a wondrous force that is solid and stealth, gentle and kind, and a loving legacy which swells even larger in his death.

I walk through the seconds surrounding what my brother may have gone through and what I in turn experienced when I discovered my brother in a lifeless form; there's no lucid way that he knew he was going to die, in fact, anyone who takes their life doesn't want to die and only wants the agony to dissipate. If only compassion were a word that were effective enough to steady Charley's thoughts and soothe his soul. If only I could hug his soul so tightly that his pain became manageable and his desperate intent dissolved.

I'm even more scared now to make life-decisions without him, hoping he may intercept the indifferent mistakes and inject some "common sense, Yolie" into my thoughts. Sometimes I hear him, in his voice and in his words, caution me to make a right instead of a left. I listen to his knee-jerk direction and abide my both him and my gut. But mostly, I make the decisions that frighten me to near-anxiety because if I continue to live life afraid of losing someone else I deeply love, then I won't live. If I continue to believe that men who love me will abandon me, then I have closed myself off to a magic only this life provides. And if I play it safe, sitting on the sidelines waiting for a rigorous coach to call my name and throw me into a game that changes my life, then I'll never be proud of myself. For without scary, you can't do brave. And life is scary, so jump, damnit. Jump.