Back to Sean

Our relationship continued to blossom. He was shy, I am outgoing and we created a nice balance together. We had fun and he made me feel all "gooey" inside! He had a good job, lived in his own place and had himself together, especially for a 19 year old. I fell hard for him.

Although we got along well and spent much time together, it was tough getting him to really commit to me at first. He just seemed reserved, scared almost. He fought moving forward to the next level of the relationship. Several months after we started dating, my sister was getting married and having s destination wedding. I asked him to come along with me, and he was hesitant. You could tell he wanted to go, and he did end up going, but he was nervous about taking big steps.

So after we had been together about a year, we decided to get our own place together. I had just turned 21 and he was 20. We found a great deal on a nice little townhome that we rented from someone we knew. Our relationship had officially gone to the next level. Things were good! We were having fun, and we were happy. After a year or so, we started to have some problems. Mainly money problems. He made good money and had a good job working in heating and air conditioning. He was a hard worker and took pride in what he did, he also liked to have nice things. I, on the other hand, was a bit of a slacker! I worked, jumping from job to job and most months I wasn't able to pay the bills I was responsible for. Of course hindsight is always 20/20! If only I knew then...

He would get upset with me and it would cause arguements. And after this pattern continued for well over 6 months, it was really affecting our relationship. In October of 1998, my father got a rare disease called Gullian Barre, and was paralyzed completely, on a ventilator and bedridden in the ICU for 28 days. It was a horrible, scary time and no one knew what to expect. One day my Dad was healthy and playing golf, and the next morning he had a hard time standing. He went to the hospital and by the end of the night, he was unable to breathe on his own. Although he made a full recovery, Sean wasn't much support while going through the process. We didn't know how things would turn out with my Dad and we were all afraid. I needed him to be there for me, and he wasn't. By Thanksgiving, my Dad was home and thnkfully made a full recovery.

I remember sitting down in our living room with Sean one morning, it was February of 1999. I told him that I thought it would be best if he moved out for a while. I thought we needed a break and some time apart may do us good. I looked up at him, and saw tears in his eyes. I hurt him, me asking him to go hurt him enough to make him cry. I had never seen that kind of emotion in him before. He promised me we would work on making things better together, and asked me to give it a month before we made any final decisions. I agreed.

A couple weeks later, my brother was killed in a car accident. My entire world shattered, and Sean and our problems were the least of my concerns. In fact, aside from the initial days and weeks following my brothers death, Sean was actually rather distant. I don't think he knew what to do or say. He basically avoided the subject when he could. Again, hindsight being 20/20...my God, we were only kids ourselves. I was just turning 23 he was not even 22 yet and here we were facing the death of my brother (who was 2 years younger than me and my best friend in the world) together.

His distance pushed me further away. I began staying up all night long, making friends on the internet and drinking way too much. In June of 1999, I met a very dear friend online, Justin. Justin lived 18 hours away from me, but saved me in so many ways. We began an on line friendship that gave me hope. He helped me through the darkest time I had ever experienced in life, he became my support person. I fell in love with a man I didn't even know. Meanwhile, my relationship with Sean continued to suffer. And a little over a year after my brother died, he moved out.

Sean had always wanted to get a mototcycle, I hated them and begged him not to. A week after moving out, he bought himself one. I was angry, and scared. We went a couple weeks without really speaking, but then started we started seeing each other again. One Friday evening, he was coming over for the night. It was just a little after dinner time on a summer day. He was riding his motorcycle over. The phone rang and I answered to a paramedic calling to tell me Sean had been in an accident. She assured me he was ok, and told me they were taking him to a trauma center to be seen. She put him on the phone, and he told me he was ok. He said his knee hurt, but other than that, he was fine. I was still in a panic. I called a friend who lived across the street and asked her to please come over quickly to ride out there with me. I called my family on the way.

By the time I arrived at the hospital, I was informed that they were prepping him for surgery. I couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening, I had just lost my brother and Sean told me he was fine, just banged his knee. We were told to go sit in this room (not a waiting room) and someone would be in to speak with us. Those were the longest minutes of my life. Finally, a doctor came in, carrying a bag of clothes, his jacket and motorcycle helmet. I thought for sure he was gone. The doctor told me that he was in very serious condition. He had injured his liver, kidney spleen. He had internal bleeding, a damaged portion of his bowel and severe burns on parts of his body from sliding across the pavement. He said it would be ok for me to walk back and see him quickly before they took him in for surgery.

I remember walking back into that cold room, seeing him lying there on that stretcher. He was pale, there was fear in his eyes and I could tell he just wanted to cry while someone held him tight and told him he would be ok. I kissed him, told him I loved him...and they wheeled him away.