Live To Love

The sharp knife of a short life

2012-01-09T01:14:00.000-08:00

If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a, bed of roses

Sink me in the river, at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother

She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh well

Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no

Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby

The sharp knife of a short life, well

I've had just enough time

If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

The sharp knife of a short life, well

I've had just enough time

And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom

I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger,

I've never known the lovin' of a man

But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand,

There's a boy here in town, says he'll love me forever,

Who would have thought forever could be severed by

The sharp knife of a short life, well,

I've had just enough time

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls

What I never did is done

A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar

They're worth so much more after I'm a goner

And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'

Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'

If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

The ballad of a dove

Go with peace and love

Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket

Save 'em for a time when you're really gonna need 'em, oh

The sharp knife of a short life, well

I've had just enough time

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls

Michelle

You can't leave me if I'm already gone

2012-01-09T00:20:00.000-08:00

I do not believe love exists. Sure, it exists for other people, but I don't for a second believe that it exists for me. I have far too many years of experience proving to me that I am in fact unlovable. Not once has someone who swore their romantic allegiance to my heart felt something that they didn't eventually take back. Love fades, it changes, it diminishes, eventually it disappears and the only logical course of action is to make the assumption that love does not truly exist.

I believe in familial love, in the love of kinship, in the love of friendship. I know there are people who have love for me, but it's a safe love, a love that doesn't come attached to expectations and demands on propriety of character. It's a love born of circumstance, of convenience, of a longing for companionship that at times seems encoded into our DNA. I am grateful for this love, because it is the only love that has comforted me during the last 12 months of my hellish life.

But honestly? The only thing that's kept me going this long is hope. Hope that I'm wrong. Hope that my life will someday be bearable. Hope that I will overcome my demons. Hope that the universe will finally acknowledge how shitty the cards I've been dealt are and cut me some fucking slack.

I just don't think I have it anymore.

My hope died when Bryan died.

Michelle
- For some reason I can't explain, I know Saint Peter won't call my name

on destruction of the self

2011-11-18T19:01:00.001-08:00

anxiety and depression go on a date to see an encore of flashbacks courtesy of their good friend post-traumatic stress disorder. but anorexia nervosa gets jealous and wants to crash their date so she brings her wingman obsessive compulsive disorder. and caught in the middle of this violent clash of worries, aching memories, self-loathing, obsessive habits and starvation is a little girl who just wants one ounce of control. over something. over anything.

I am that girl.

- Michelle

When Darkness Turns To Light

2011-11-11T22:50:00.000-08:00

It seems I have reached yet another first in endless experiences left in my life which I am incapable of sharing with my brother Bryan. Life without B has been a series of moments in which I desperately needed my brother, moments that have been both heart-wrenching and beautiful, wondrous and painful. And tonight I am sick of experiencing these "first" moments.

In April of this year, less than 2 months after Bryan passed away, I saw Rise Against play at the Civic Center Auditorium. I was joined by one of my best friends and his wife, and (albeit reluctantly) my partner at the time. I was supposed to go to that concert with my brother Bryan. A week before he was hospitalized, I sent him a link about the concert and offered to buy his ticket as an early birthday present if he'd go with me. Bryan was super stoked about the show and was planning on spending the night at my coop and hanging out with me. I am infuriated and heart broken that I was robbed of a weekend with my brother. We had finally had another chance after a painful estrangement. I just wanted Bryan back in my life and god damn it I fucking had him.

But that was not the first time that had happened, no the first in this story is what happened at the show. Every other time I have seen Rise Against play live, I have been with Bryan. Even the time we were fighting over something stupid, we found each other at the show and listened to the encore together. We listened to every single fucking encore together, and Rise Against always played 2 of our favorite songs, 'Everchanging' and 'Black Masks and Gasoline.' We held our fists in the air and lost our hearts in the swell of passion from the crowd. This was our band and these were our songs.

But in April of this year, I debated with myself on whether or not to stay for the encore, knowing it would be my first without B and conflicted on the right choice. Do I hold dearest my last memories with B and protect them by leaving, or do I celebrate those precious memories by being there in that moment for B when he couldn't be? It's asinine the internal debates I've gotten into with myself, a twisted psychological warfare between numerous thoughts claiming to know what decision would do right by my love of Bryan. I made the decision to stay for the encore, and I'm glad that I did.

That night was the first time out of many, many shows I've seen when Rise Against did not play either 'Everchanging' or 'Black Masks and Gasoline.' I was fucking floored. My favorite band, whose love I shared with Bryan for 10 yes 10 years, had unknowingly honored my memories of those songs with B and given me yet another reason to love them. I cried that night because I could not share that experience with Bryan, either in person or by talking to him about the show. I couldn't call him and tell him excitedly that the first time I saw them with B they didn't play our songs, almost as a silent protest to our inability to share that moment together.

God I've digressed as badly as Bryan could. He'd be proud. Anyway, the point was that tonight I experienced another "first" since Bryan died that I cannot tell him about. I recently discovered All American Rejects and I've become a bit obsessed. I love this band and I wish that I could call Bryan tonight and get his opinion on them, because for the life of me I cannot remember what it was but if you knew Bryan than you know he had an opinion about them. I like to think that if I like them this much then Bryan definitely liked them. But I'm not sure. And I cry tonight because I wish I'd paid attention to them years ago so I could have already listened to him rant or rave about them. Listen to him tease me if he disliked their music, saying he taught me better than that. Or smiling at me proudly as he played their CD in his truck and we flew down the 80 singing and laughing. Another memory I was robbed of.

But for some reason it felt really good to talk about the Rise Against show. It seems I had a lot to say about it as it turned out to be the focus of this entry. But because the entry was supposed to be about All American Rejects, and because I fucking love them and you, this song's for you B. I miss you terribly.

- Michelle
All these thoughts locked inside, Now your the first to know

Do you have The Facebooks?

2011-10-24T23:11:00.000-07:00

I wrote this on the "About Me" section of my brother's facebook page when I decided to open it up to friends and family. I'm not going to name the page here since Bryan didn't want his ex finding it and neither do I (not that I'd add her anyway), but if we're friends on facebook and you want to add my brother, it's easy: his profile is listed as my brother. Anyway, I'm posting this here because I like the insight it gives into both my brother Bryan and the relationship we had, and this allows my words to be accessible to those who don't know my brother.

I once tried to convince my brother to use facebook, because I missed talking with him as much as we did on Myspace, and I missed reading his blog so easily and readily. I had closed my Myspace profile and refused to get another, but Bryan refused to actively participate in setting up a Facebook profile and the only way he would have one is if I set it up for him. Bryan had his principles, but he'd relinquish under the onslaught of a nagging sister willing to do the work for him.

So I set this profile up for B a year before he passed away. However, he couldn't figure out how to make it work, and he wouldn't let me add friends for him (to encourage him to use it) because he didn't want his ex-girlfriend finding it and having access to his life. In true Bryan fashion he said screw this and refused to use his facebook. And since I was his only FB friend, no one ever knew he had it.

However, because I created it, and he couldn't figure out the magic that happens when you actually read a FB email address change verification email and follow the instructions, I still have access to it.

My brother passed away on February 27th, 2011. I kept the knowledge of his FB profile to myself because I didn't want to hurt or shake anyone by seeing his chosen internet identity. But if you're reading this, you know of his passing and you're likely searching for a place to leave him messages of love and rememberence. Our mom suggested it would be kind to invite his loved ones to do just that.

I know Bryan would love it if you did. Bryan was a wonderful storyteller, he could make me laugh so hard I couldn't catch a breath to make any noise, and the next instant bring me to a humbled moment of tearful reflection. I loved my brother very much, as did so many people, and he loved us with a vibrant intensity I have yet to find in another. And I hope this page can reflect that love.

-Michelle Maeller
08/26/2011

You're fucking perfect to me

2011-10-21T21:36:00.000-07:00

8 months ago today I listened to a voicemail that caused my world to collapse inside itself. My brother Bryan had spent a large portion of his life in and out of hospitals. And every time he went back in my mom would call me and say where he was, that he was alright and I didn't need to make the 2 hour drive to Sacramento. She would remind me that it would just make him cranky with both of us because Bryan hated letting people see him when he was sick.

I remember sitting at my desk at work, joking around with my partner at the time, when my phone started blowing up with family. When I listened to my mom's voicemail and heard her frantic voice, telling me that Bryan was in the hospital and I needed to call her right now and make plans to come home, my heart started racing and my lungs stopped breathing. My eyes filled with tears as I thought to myself, no, it's can't fucking be, why does it have to be different this time? Why can't she just tell me he's ok, that I should stay home and he'll call me when he's up to it? But she couldn't. Bryan's heart stopped and he was in the hospital on life support. He would never call me again.

A piece of me died that day. Another died a week later on February 27, when I held my brothers hand as they turned off the machines keeping his body alive and let his soul finally escape to peace.

Bryan was an incredibly gifted writer. He loved writing about music, politics, and broken hearts. He never failed to make me laugh, to introduce me to wonderful new music we could share, to rock out with me in the pit at Rise Against shows, to watch silly movies with me and hang out with my boyfriend of the moment, to try to convince me that his best friend was my soul mate so they could be "real brothers, not just bros," to make my soul ache with the tears in his eyes when he came to me for cheering up his broken heart. I loved hearing him laugh, especially when it was because of something I did or said.

My big brother was my hero, the guy I spent my entire life looking up to and wanting to be. I stole his CDs just so we could go CD shopping together when he made me buy him replacements, just to stroll the aisles of Dimple Records with him and listen to him bitch about various artists. I was so proud of myself for getting him into Strung Out, he would always call me when their new CD came out and tell me how he brags to everyone that his little sister made him a fan of such an awesome band. He sent me a record of Rise Against's album Appeal to Reason when it came out, with a sweet note reminding me that he was thinking of me and wanted me to know. I still have it and I'm going to get it framed.

I wear his watch every day, because I know he'd want me to wear it, he'd be proud to see it on my wrist. He would also bitch at me every time I knocked the glass plate into something, and I swear I can hear his voice in my head each time I do. I don't necessarily think it's really him, I like to think of it as proof of how close we were and how similar too. I typically am attracted to skaters and guitar players, probably because those are the type of guys he'd approve of, and who would have the most in common with B (and thus be down for us all to hang out together). I loved hanging out with Bryan, it was always a blast. And we always laughed so much.

Sometimes when a person dies, their family falls apart. Now that I've experienced the heartbreaking loss of a loved one, I can understand how easily that could happen, how fragile we are in our period of mourning. But Bryan would be proud of his family. I am closer to my mom now than I've been in years, I miss her so much it aches and I call her almost daily. And Bryan would be so proud of her, my mom makes me laugh every time I talk to her or when I read her silly texts. I love my family, and rather than choose to feel shame that it took losing Bryan to heal some old wounds, I choose to be thankful that my family is strong and loving and wonderful.

Before my brother Bryan died, he dedicated this song to me in a beautiful post on his blog. Every time I listen to this song I think of B and I cry. I truly believe deep within my heat that every person deserves to have someone who thinks of them this way. I cry because I am so incredibly grateful and lucky that my someone was Bryan. My brother was a great guy. And he was fucking perfect to me.

I dare you to watch the entire video and not tear up.

- Michelle
It's enough, I've done all I can think of, chased down all my demons, I've seen you do the same.

A Rite of Passage

2011-10-07T23:19:00.000-07:00

Tonight I pulled out the remnants of a bag of melted dark chocolate espresso trail mix I had joyfully endulged in at Burning Man with Sarah Brodskizzle. The scent of playa caressed my senses as I opened the bag and inspected its dusty but oh so crunchy and delicious contents. Tentatively I pulled out a chunk and lightly blew off some playa. The specimen seemed healthy. I cocked one eyebrow, thought whatthehell and popped it in my eager mouth. And as my taste buds melted in chocolate ecstasy I thought to myself, man it's good to be home.

Damn the (burning) Man, Save the Empire!

2011-09-05T12:08:00.000-07:00

I did it. Burning Man was life changing. Will post epic blog when we've unpacked the yurt and I've gotten some much-needed rest.

I will say this, it's been 6 months since I've felt my brother's presence so strongly as I did at Burning Man. Which I find hysterical because he would have hated it and made fun of me for years.

My brother, my hero, my B

2011-08-15T22:05:00.000-07:00

I started this blog in the wake of my brother's death. I promised I would one day use it to tell his story to the world. But I can't seem to bring myself to talk about him just yet. It's a wound that's still bleeding, an ache that cuts into my heart with every inhale, because each breath is one more moment he doesn't get.

And still I waiver, still I find difficulty typing the words that changed my life irrevocably. When my brother died, my life was shattered, and I still can't seem to sort it out. It's been 6 months since I last spoke to B. The last words he said to me were the last words everyone wants to hear. I love you. I've spent the last 6 months struggling under the weight of all the days left in my life without him. We told each other we were twins born 1.5 years apart, that all we had was each other. And now he's gone.

Bryan died 2 weeks before Rise Against's new album, Endgame, was released. He will never hear this song, never know how much it speaks to our intense connection. The awful, fucked up circumstances of our lives and traumas were what we were born into. We didn't choose or ask to be this way. And yet over and over again we are judged and punished by those who will never know the pain we've known, never understand the daily struggle just to keep breathing, never appreciate our resiliency.

I am terrified to do this alone. But I will.

Courage is not the absence of fear, but the willingness to act in spite of fear.

Make it stop.
Let this end,
All these years pushed to the ledge.
But proud I stand
Of who I am
I plan to go on living.

- Michelle

This one's for you kiddo..

2011-08-08T11:44:00.000-07:00

- Michelle

You sound so innocent, all full of good intent, you swear that you know best

Did I leave the gas on? ... No, I'm a fucking squirrel!

2011-06-17T16:14:00.000-07:00

For B...

-Michelle

I would have stayed up with you all night, had I known how to save a life.