"mountain" peaks and valleys

i watched "brokeback mountain" tonight

my god

had i only known
sitting there
in that movie theatre
in the kips bay area of new york
at 9:55 p.m.
on december 30th, 2005

that i was surrounded by so much death

i just don't know
that any of us
could have possibly carried on

i have the movie ticket
it tells me when i attended the film
and where

i certainly remember that it was with matt

but i can't quite remember
if he sat to the right of me
or to the left

it was to the right of me, i think
to the right of me, "i swear"

ennis lives but jack dies
jake lives but heath dies
chris lives but matt dies

and the earth just keeps on spinning

at one point in the film tonight
jack and ennis kiss
deep, hungry
famished even
real

i laughed out loud, watching it
uncomfortable
ecstatic

i wanted to rewind the dvd
and watch their bodies fill with joy
over and over again

but there's no rewinding life
so i let the movie play on

there's a lot of smoking in "brokeback"
and despite more or less quitting years ago
watching them, i needed a cigarette
bad

so i went downstairs to my neighbor friends
to 'borrow' one

and when i got back upstairs
i reached for a matchbook
the first one i saw in the drawer

sardi's
the theatre restaurant in times square

a matchbook i'd grabbed
after the last meal that matt and i shared

memories like land mines

everywhere
unannounced

ennis says to jack..
heath says to jake..
matthew says to chris..
& chris says to matt..

"it's because of you that i'm like this. i'm nothin'. i'm nowhere."

the movie ends
and the earth just keeps on spinning

lost, loved, gone

"Heath ledger just died."

i sent the text to a large group of friends and family members
just before 5:00 p.m. last tuesday
shocked
baffled
images, questions
shape-shifting in my mind

and then came their replies

"Really? How?"
"I know. It's spreading like wildfire. OD. Sad."
"I heard. That is nuts."
"What the fuck? brad renfro just died too."
"How?"
"That's horrible. What drug?"
"I heard sux."
"Really?"
"Omg"
"What! How?"

and so on
and so forth

it kind of makes no sense
how much a thing like this can affect us

when asked on her blog
if it was weird to be sad for someone you've never met
rosie o'donnell replied

"not weird at all
he will be river for todays teens
james dean to r parents
it is a national pain
many feel"

but

but

it is almost too raw for some
so finite
so forever

death, at one point
though terrifying
seemed almost wondrous to me

scandal
awe
interest
attention
ATTENTION above all
even love

finally it's all about you

but as john donne wrote so eloquently
"death, be not proud"

and lord it isn't

heath's body
so small atop that gurney
as wheeled out of 421 broome street
surrounded by strangers, gawkers, the blinding blaze of flashbulbs

god
he's so alone, i thought
i know it's just a shell
but his body is so alone

with his family in australia
michelle in sweden
and his friends god knows where

naked
face down
at the foot of the bed
with pills scattered about

no chance to defend himself
no chance to say
"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! BELIEVE ME PLEASE! PLEASE, PLEASE BELIEVE ME!"
"I WOULD NEVER DO THIS TO MY BODY ON PURPOSE! I WOULD NEVER ABANDON MY CHILD!"
"LET ME EXPLAIN MYSELF! GOD, PLEASE! LET ME COME BACK AND TRY!"

you learn
in death
just how final it is

i've been haunted daily with the memories of things my boyfriend matt will never do again

& never is a hard concept to grab hold of
when you have no other choice

but the similarities between the two relationships continue to baffle me

chris and matt:
a two year relationship
time together, time apart
a shared home
the picture of idyllic bliss
struggle
drugs
a separation
continued contact
continued love
more struggle
and four months after the break
matt dies
suddenly, sordidly
heard snoring a few hours before the end
with pills nearby
but no immediate answers as to why or how
speculation
confusion
and grief beyond grief

michelle and heath:
a three year relationship
time together, time apart
a shared home
the picture of idyllic bliss
struggle
drugs
a separation
continued contact
continued love
more struggle
and four months after the break
heath dies
suddenly, sordidly
heard snoring a few hours before the end
with pills nearby
but no immediate answers as to why or how
speculation
confusion
and grief beyond grief

i had been upset about brad renfro
heath's death has taken me to an even darker place
their faces run through my mind
constantly

but
where does the anger go in times like these?
is there actually anyone to blame?

is it the addicts who feel they NEED to medicate?
the pharmaceutical companies who manufacture drugs so easily abused and dangerous when combined?
the doctors who over-prescribe time and again?

i feel the same way about prescription medication
as i do about guns

THEY ARE FAR TOO EASY TO OBTAIN
AND FAR. TOO. FUCKING. DANGEROUS.

i had thought
during those glazed-over weeks following matt's death
that i wanted some celebrity to die
that i REALLY wanted some famous person to perish
as a wake up call
to the drug lords
the slime doctors
and the kids who just need help

i had thought it would be britney
or amy winehouse

and i was perfectly willing
hopeful even
at the thought of hearing they'd passed on
because all i knew was that SOMETHING HAD TO CHANGE

but now
there is only sadness
and no death feels warranted, justified, good

plus, what have we learned?
if any blame will be placed it'll go to mary kate olsen
or the masseuse who (gasp!) wasn't a licensed massage therapist
or some other innocent bystander caught in this web

divert
divert
divert

don't get mad at the accessibility of dangerous medications
because, believe it or not, the drug companies are more powerful than an olsen
and not nearly as fun to write about

i miss matt
and somehow brad and heath

this world takes so violently
so suddenly

and we're left here to carry on
shattered
cracked
forever altered

yet somehow,
somehow
forever grateful for their lives


Matthew Steven LaRoche
February 8, 1984 - September 22, 2007

Brad Barron Renfro
July 25, 1982 - January 15, 2008

Heathcliff Andrew Ledger
April 4, 1979 - January 22, 2008

tonight.

it's raining outside.
the clock has turned to 12.

i am 26 years old now.
i am now
26

why are birthdays so hard for some of us?
i long to get to the root.

that grey has settled in again.
i don't blame january.
or work, entirely.
or people.
or even matt's death.

it's all that
but none of it too.

you feel it
like in the commercials
that ache
hollow
the lethargy
the inability to act
the hope that's sucked away

pendulums swing
roller coasters rise and fall
clocks tick on

things will improve
i know
you have to feel the blue to know the yellow
you have to weather night before a dawn


it's midnight and then some
my birthday morning has begun

i could be out
should be out, rather

the option to engage is nearly always there
it's just on us to accept it's invitation

the other night
i waited for the train to come
having just missed it, watching it speed by
i cursed myself
for staying that extra couple of minutes to talk to co-workers
for not having walked at a quicker pace
for whatever the fuck

i stood there
cold
underground
tense and raging

before the miracle occurred

JAZZ

a saxophone
music from above
skyward, heavenly
wafting through the subway grates

from the hotel lobby?
a merchant's boombox?
some street musician hoping for change?

a new york city miracle

jazz
long and smooth
rich, deep, sad, full, gorgeous

for three full minutes
before the next train came

there are no accidents
not in life
and not in public transport either


tonight
at work
fuming, confused by the synapses firing in my mind
angry that i cannot shake this AAGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

i wrote on post-it after post-it
'fuck you'
'fuck this'
'fuck, fuck, fuck'

before

from nowhere and everywhere at once
i wrote
without full grasp, knowledge
or even finger control

'I'M SO GRATEFUL FOR LIFE.'

'I'M SO GRATEFUL FOR LIFE.'

'I'M SO GRATEFUL FOR LIFE.'


i read (on a woman's purse) recently
that
"Your Outlook on Life is a Direct Representation of How You View Yourself"

i smiled
upon reading that
and thought
brief but hard

hmmmm...

my outlook on life?

and then
it came

"hard, sad, ultimately beautiful and totally worth it."


it's raining outside.
the clock has turned to 12.

i am 26 years old now.
i am now
26

Here Again, Changed.

and here we are again..

not so much the fingers
as the soul
that's pulled back to the
keyboard

the fingers need work
discipline
training

i am lazy
bafflingly so

work
writing
exercise
career

lazy
lazy
LATER

when it can always be put off
when there is so much else to do
and so much on t.v.

i want to write a book
i want to capture what i had
for that brief & beautiful moment in time

with matt

i want him to be remembered
certainly not just as a boyfriend
or as that pleasant, handsome blonde person

but rather
i want him to be remembered for all he was

now that he is gone

what happens in these situations?
on television
in faux-life
when someone dies

the music swells
tears rush to the surface
desperate to drown out something
wash away that catch
the tension held behind cheek bones
that knot beneath the chest

mostly they just cut to commercial
another scene
or jump to "three months later"

if only

i want to write about matt
knowing it will never be enough

self-fucking-indulgent
is all i can manage
on this, the first day of 2008

a year he never lived to see

at the start of 2007
matt and i lived together
had a life
or at least he did

now
for me
different job
different apartment
different relationship status
different friends
different goals
different turmoil
different, different everything

i fight the sadness
and that, at least, is trying

rarely giving in completely
working against the odds to smile
wanting to, in the end

make light of darkness
make light of deepest tragedy



Eulogy for Matthew Steven LaRoche
as delivered by Chris Clark
September 26, 2007

There was so much that Matt wanted all of us to know. He wanted us to have seen Angels in America on DVD, he wanted us to experience big city life, even just on vacation. He wanted us to have worked in a restaurant and KNOW how important leaving a 20% tip was.

He wanted us all to read regularly and write down our thoughts. He wanted us to accept all people, but never forget the importance of a politically incorrect joke. He just so wanted all of us to dance without judgement. To express our beliefs strongly and without fear. He just wanted to live and to inspire LIFE in the sometimes dark grey world around him.

Matt’s time on this earth was cut horrifically short. But we know that in his way he did more than most of us could ever dare. He worked non-stop and managed to graduate With Honors from the University of South Florida. He was employed under Dr. Marty Markowitz as well as Dr. Ho, who was named Time Magazine’s Person of the Year. With Matt’s dedicated and passionate work at the Aaron Diamond AIDS research center he has quite possibly contributed to what will someday be the cure for billions. And perhaps most importantly, he knew love.

He taught us all to embrace knowledge. To never settle for what’s easy. To always demand more from our government, more from our loved ones and more from ourselves.

Just a couple of days ago I was on the phone with a friend of ours. We were talking about Matt, how inexpressibly special he was. And I was struck when our friend Eric told a story that I had never heard. After two years as Matt’s boyfriend I thought I knew just about everything he had to say, the good, the bad and the sometimes very sloppy.

But our friend Eric told me about a conversation he’d had with Matt at some point during a party, while Matt was living in New York. Eric told me that Matt had begun to discuss his Uncle Mike, who had died of AIDS and who’d been the catalyst for Matt’s life’s work in HIV AIDS research, awareness and prevention.

I was told that Matt had expressed how important it was to him that his Uncle’s legacy be CARRIED ON. That as long as he was living NO ONE would stop Mike’s existence and importance in the world. That his Uncle Mike WOULD continue to live through him and his actions, through his stories and his love.

What a lesson Matt has taught us. To never, ever, under any circumstance allow ourselves to push our memories away. To never hide from the truth... And there were so many truths to Matt. That He Lived. That He Existed. That He Carved A Place In This World. And That He Mattered. So Much. “No more will we die silent deaths,” was a favorite quote of his. And it rings even more profoundly now.

We learn how fragile life is when the unspeakable sweeps through and robs us in the night. But it CANNOT take our memories, and it WILL NOT take our bond.

But then again, who could forget Matthew Steven LaRoche? It’s just not possible. He is with us now. Probably wishing they’d play some George Michael music and tsking some of the wardrobe choices we’ve made. He is laughing. And he is still. He is steadfastly courteous and brave. He is probably sipping a Diet Coke, researching new advancements in medicine at PubMed.com, watching Good Morning America before work with a steaming cup of coffee, talking about how hilarious Kathy Griffin is, playing with his nephew and niece Austin and Cay-Cay, dreaming up his next amazing hairstyle and craving ANYTHING with a little bit of Goat Cheese.

And he is telling all of us, like he’d quietly say to me, that he loves you all... completely.