Running Up That Hill

And if I only could 

Make a deal with God 

Get him to swap our places 

Be running up that road 

Be running up that hill 

Be running up that building 

I was watching the final season of Stranger Things, and naturally Running Up That Hill got stuck in my head again. I’ll always prefer Placebo’s version of it, though. It was a staple of my college years. But because of my grief, I perceive things differently in every form… songs, writing, shows, movies, and just art in general. 

Running Up That Hill is ultimately about switching places with someone to understand them better. If you could be in their shoes, go inside their mind, and feel what it was like from their perspective… you would finally understand. 

Every time I hear this song now, I think about how much of my brother I knew… and how much I never will. Losing Austin the way that I did left me with a particular kind of silence. It was silence that offered no goodbye, no resolution, no closure, and no understanding. We all have things living inside us that we don’t share. I will even tell you I wear several masks when interacting with people. Sometimes, the darkness is too dark. 

Growing up, you assume your sibling is someone you understand instinctively. But after he was gone, I realized how much of his inner world stayed locked away from everyone. I found myself replaying moments, searching for clues that might translate his silence into something understandable. Listening to this song again gave shape to the longing to trade places, to step inside his mind for just one moment and say, I see you now. 

I would have stood in the storm with him if I had known just how severe it was. 

I wish I could understand what made the weight so heavy for him, what his days felt like. I would have taken that pain into my own body if it meant he didn’t have to carry it alone. And maybe, selfishly, if I had clarity for all my unanswered questions, I wouldn’t have all this guilt living inside me. I wouldn’t be this angry at myself, thinking about all the ways I didn’t help him or all the ways I wasn't there for him. Maybe I could finally accept what happened.

As siblings, we have such a shared, bonded history, and that’s what makes the questions hurt more. How can someone feel so far away when they were once right beside you? Running Up That Hill highlights the harsh reality that love alone isn’t always enough to overcome the physical or emotional distance between two people, even if that love is profound and enduring. Even when you would have run uphill forever just to meet them where they were. 

No deal was made.

No places were traded.

All that remains is my grief. 

I realize now there will always be a conversation I never got to have. And if I want to keep living, I have to learn how to accept that. Some things are not meant to be understood. You don’t get every answer wrapped up neatly with a bow. Sometimes the unanswered truth is ugly. I can replay all the things I should have said over and over again, but it will never change what happened. 

During the Stranger Things finale, there was one scene that completely undid me. I wasn’t ready for that conversation between Hopper and Mike. But it felt like Hopper was speaking directly to me because boy, did I need to hear it... 

“What happened is not your fault. 

The way I see it, you got two roads ahead of you. 

You got one road where you keep blaming yourself for what happened. 

You keep going over it in your head, over and over, what you could have done differently. 

You push people away, and you suffer because that’s what you think you deserve. 

And then there’s another road where you find a way to accept what happened. 

Find a way to accept her choice. 

Doesn’t mean you got to like it. 

Doesn’t mean you got to understand it. 

Never think about it. 

You just accept it. 

You live the best goddamn life you can. 

I’ve been down that first road before. 

I don’t recommend it.” 

Ultimately, I have to find a way to stop searching for the answers and accept this heartbreak instead.