love for someone who can’t receive it

there are very few people, who, if they were to die, would cause me to feel like i’m falling off a cliff that never hits the ground. 

however, cory monteith is one of those people. 

i love cory monteith. i love him so much. present tense. it will always be present tense. 

if you were to rewind just a little more than four (i think it’s four) years ago, you’d find a little girl who was so lost and so hung up on all the wrong things in the place of this girl who is almost 18 today. 

then you’d find a little girl who found glee. 

i first stumbled upon glee right before the first season ended, and it kind of impacted my life in this huge way. i became more confident, i didn’t really care what other people thought of me, i wanted to be better. 

then you’d find a little girl who found cory monteith. 

cory monteith was (god, that hurts to type in past tense SO MUCH) a man who was essentially everything i wanted to be. smart, funny, cute, well-rounded, talented, nice, friendly. an all-around warm person. i could quite frankly go on forever. 

i was a confused little girl who was going into high school (i think) and who didn’t really have any sort of guidance. but then i found cory monteith. 

i never met him. i’ll never get the chance to meet him. but he’s shaped the girl who’s typing this blog post in a way that i can hardly articulate. his problems in the past only seemed to make him work harder. i want to be that person. 

i woke up this morning to 82 texts and four missed calls. granted, 72 of them were from the same person. all of them had to do with his death. (if i thought past tense hurt, death hurts about 600 times more.) i owe about 80 of those texts to people that i’ve become friends with due to my love of glee and cory monteith and finn hudson. 

to say that this boy has changed my life would be such an understatement. 

i never met him. i’ll never meet him, but right now i just feel like he was my best friend and now he’s gone. i am so proud that i got the chance to call myself a fan of his. i know for a fact that he was the most incredible man, and despite everything, i have nothing but love and respect and admiration for him. 

i woke up at 7:45, and it’s safe to say that by 7:46 i was a crying sobbing mess. by 7:50 i had my fingers down my throat in an effort to get myself to breathe. two hours later i’m still basically the same.

i can’t stop crying for all the things he’ll never get to do or say or be. he deserved so much more than this, and it shatters my heart that none of that will ever happen. 

the only thing i can equate this to is that when i was little, i loved crocodile hunter. it was my favorite show, and i watched it all the time. then steve irwin died, and i thought it was a practical joke. after the news broke, i went around for days saying that it was just a joke and then he was going to come out, yell SURPRISE, and then wrestle some alligators. 

i know cory is gone. i know that everything hurts right now and that this is the literal definition of gone too soon. i want it to be a sick joke. i want all of this to be funny in a couple days after he tweets and says “gotcha!” cory, i promise i won’t be mad. not even a little. 

i hate the past tense. i will rework the entire english language if i never have to use the past tense. i never, ever want to say “cory monteith was a beautiful human being” because he is a beautiful human being. nothing will ever change that. i don’t care what his autopsy might say, or two stints in rehab, or problems with addiction may say. 

he is so many different things to me, and he’ll always be those things to me. death be damned. 

i’ve spent all day mulling over this post and what i want to say to this person who was the most incredible role model i could’ve asked for. i just got off the phone with my lovely, beautiful ashley, and would you care to guess how we met? you bet your bottom it was through glee and finn and rachel. we’ve been friends for… a little more than two years, if i remember correctly. (ash, can you confirm this? is it two or three? i’m so murky on all the dates.) ashley is amazing and beautiful and wonderful and she’s been kind enough to impart her wisdom on me many, many different times on many, many different subjects. 

it’s probably safe to say that we wouldn’t be friends today if it weren’t for him.

we talked about soooo much, and honestly i’m feeling much better. of course the pain/hurt/shock/grief/anger/splitting headache is still there. i think it’ll be there for a long time. but she understood me and i understood her and that was honestly what i needed.  thank you thank you thank you, my lovely beautiful ashley. 

there are so many things i want to know that i probably never will, and that’s fine. it’s truly not my business, but i can only hope that guy who was larger than life and touched so many is in a better place, free from his struggles. 

i think a lot about last words after reading looking for alaska approximately 600 times. it breaks my heart that i’ll never know his. edna st. vincent millay fell down the stairs to her death, and she landed right next to a poem she was working on with a line that reads as follows: “blessed is this day, no matter who has died.” 

it feels so bittersweet to say that. but it is a good life. it will continue to be a good life. i will work hard to ensure that because that’s what cory would want, i think. today was not fun, tomorrow will not be fun, the foreseeable future will not be fun, but “it is a good life, hazel grace.” 

there are flashes of “oh, it’s a normal sunday” but then i remember. then i force myself to remember that he’ll never really, truly be gone because there are an abundance of people will carry on his legacy with nothing but pride, myself included. 

i owe him the world, and i’d give it to him, if only i could.

i love him more than words can say, and for now that will have to be enough because i’m not so sure what to say.