For the love of Jeremy

Today it has been 8 years. 8 years since the boy I loved so very much left us. 8 years since heroin ripped him from this world. This blog was created 5 years ago as a way to put into words my pain, grief and anger. It has since taken a turn in regards to its content but its funny how things come full circle because here we are, back to Jeremy.

Jeremy Chad Hobbs was the first boy I ever truly loved. He was my soulmate, my twin fire and my best friend.

Holidays, anniversaries and Angel days are the worst. Angel days is the term Jeremy’s mother coined as the anniversary of someone’s death. August 27th every year, will always be the worst day of my life.

This year it’s especially hard. It’s the first anniversary in 5 years that I haven’t had Chads love and support. Jeremy’s mom used to say that she thought Jeremy handpicked Chad for me. It was ironic how similar they were and that they shared Chad in their names. Jeremy’s parents accepted chad as their own. He would visit them with me. Jeremy’s dad helped chad with his farming and even loaned him equipment. They even were at our wedding. Year 1 and 4 were extremely hard for me but now I think year 8 is going to be the hardest of all.

Grief is a fickle bitch. She creeps up when you least expect it. But she never truly leaves you, it just gets different. Over the last 8 years, the way I grieve has changed drastically. I don’t cry hysterically as much as I used too. I’m no longer get so angry that I throw shoes at my bedroom walls. And the guilt I have about not being there the night he died has become manageable.

You see, I spent 6 years of my life with Jeremy. I was 15 when we started dating and he died just before my 21st birthday. For 6 years, I tried everything humanly possible to end his addiction. 2 days before his death he had called me. We were sorta on a relationship break. As usual, drugs had come between us. But that night he told me that had just passed a drug test for a new job, he was clean and happy about that. He also told me that he loved me and was going to stay clean and prove to me he was changing. He told me he was going to win me back.

The night he overdosed, I was told not to come to the hospital, it wasn’t necessary . I didn’t have many details and I wasn’t really sure what was going on. I had fallen asleep before I got the news it was an overdose.

I woke up very early that morning. Around 5:30. I had a bad feeling. I checked my phone and saw the text of what happened. I immediately called his mother, who picked up the phone on the first ring to tell me that the love of my life had just died, 30 minutes prior.

To this day I’m almost positive I woke up because the other half of my heart had just left this world.

I have been carrying extreme guilt all these years. I should have drove straight to the hospital as soon as I found out he was there. I should have been holding his hand and telling him how much I loved him. I should have been there when he took his last breath.

Jeremy and I had a lot of really bad moments. We were actually a terrible couple. We brought out the absolute worst in each other. But we loved each other like crazy. I consider myself to be so very lucky because we shared more love in our short and chaotic 6 years then most people get to share in a lifetime.

I can easily say that it was love at first sight for both of us. We meet at a bonfire. Towards the end of the night, jerms had run into a hayfield with my cell phone. Before he would give me my phone back he made me sit and talk to him. So I sat. He looked at me and said “Laying in a field, under the stars with a beautiful girl is the type of thing you only see in movies”. And that was it for us.

We loved to sit back and remember that night. We would often climb onto his parents garage roof and look at the stars.

I have often been accused of holding on to Jeremy too much. That I haven’t moved on. When someone you love dies, you never move on from that. But I have moved forward. It’s so unfair when people make those comments. All I have is memories of my sweet boy. Choosing to keep those memories alive helps me cope and process.

For years after his death, I had dreams about him frequently. I was always chasing and looking for him. I would always get so close to actually getting to him, and then he would disappear. I’ll never forget the first time I actually found him in a dream. It was like he was actually there. I could feel his soft hair, I could smell the laundry detergent scent on his clothes and when he kissed me I could taste him.

I know that I am never without my boy. I can feel him near me at any given time. When I’m jamming in the car and look over and just know he’s in the passenger seat rocking out with me. When I’m laying in bed and feel a tingle in my back, I know his arms are wrapped tight around me. At the A day to remember concert, I knew he was standing in that crowd with me, singing our favorites song at the top of our lungs together.

I consider myself so lucky to be able to have so much of him to hold on to. He influenced my life in so many ways. We loved “that screamo shit” music as his mother called it. We connected so deeply through music. You had at me hello by A day to remember was our song. It reminded us so much of the night we met and he would play it on his guitar for me so often. I loved watching him wrestle. We would spend hours on sunny Sunday afternoons in the hammock under the tree in his parents back yard. We would somehow fit me, him and the 90 pound family dog in his twin bed.

We would play guitar hero for hours on end. We even went as far as designing and using his dads professional spray guns to paint our guitars.

I will forever miss all those memories. I will forever miss his crooked smile. I will forever miss how we would always nap during rain storms. I miss our inside jokes. I miss scrapple in the mornings and black cherry ice cream. I miss buying personalized ornaments to commemorate your personality each year. I miss being late to lunch at grandmom Hobbs every Sunday.

I have moved forward but I won’t ever forget either or think that you should be here. I made myself an outstanding and high achieving career in law for 7 years then turned around and started a second career teaching. I met a man and got married. And even though that marriage failed I think my boy has his hands all over my new relationship. My husbands name was Chad, which if you paid attention to the beginning, was Jeremy’s middle name. Ironically my boyfriends name is Jeremy. I’m pretty sure that Jerms looked at how badly chad screwed up and said to god, we still have to give her something associated with me, so we are going to give her a whole new Jeremy. New Jeremy was also a wrestler. Coincidence? I think not.

I am so lucky for all our years together. For all the good and the bad. Each moment led me to be the person that I am today. Without his love and his pain I wouldn’t be the strong and bold woman that I am now. Without his death and it’s pain, I wouldn’t have this blog. I wouldn’t have been able to use it as I have. I initially created this blog to be able to share on social media and create outreach for my friends and acquaintances who were struggling with addiction or had a loved one who was. It was absolutely amazing the amount of people who reached out to me. It gave me a purpose for my grief. It gave me comfort that I could try to advise and help. I was working with the Substance abuse program through the DOJ at the time and was able to use my contacts and resources to help these people try to get some help.

I find comfort in the fact that Jeremy’s death helped do that. It helped put some of his friends on the straight and narrow too. I think he would be proud. Of me. Of this. Of all the growth that has been made.

There will never be moment that I won’t miss him. But I know that I will see him again someday. I know he is in heaven waiting.

Loving you for always and forever sweet boy. Until we meet again 💕

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