28th June

Today was hell.

I can't stay busy enough. This morning I woke up at 6, stayed in bed until 7:15, cleaned the kitchen, mopped the floor, cleaned the bathroom, folded all of my laundry, went for a long walk (and cried the entire time), vacuumed and cleaned out my car...and that was all before 10. I spent the rest of the day dying to hear your voice (other than in my head). Of course I'm not sure what I would say to you. Grief is weird in that you reach a point of being reconciled to life without your love, that the idea of back tracking is strangely scary. But what isn't scary these days?

Last night I prayed that my existence would be undone. I didn't pray to die, I just prayed to go away. Imagine my disappointment when I woke up, early (that must have been God's way of punishing me, make me lucid longer than necessary on a lonely Saturday).

Babe, I feel so torn. I want you, I miss you, I teeter on the edge of doing whatever, sacrificing whatever to have you again. I wonder what life is like where you are. I wonder if you really do miss me, I wonder how fast your love is fading, I wonder if it's as hard for you as it is for me. I hate being alone, and that's exactly where I am.

While I was walking this morning I thought of life's irony. All the time it took for me to trust you, to go from wanting you to needing you, to relinquish my fierce independence. Everything I tried so hard to keep for myself, to keep myself safe. The irony? I gave that all to you, and then you left and took it with you. And now I'm here, with no one to trust, no one to need, and a wounded independence that wants nothing more than to depend on you.

Bitter.

Fooled

I think I've been doing too well without you. I go to work and make it through each day with minimal tears. As long as I'm busy I can shut it all out, ignore the reality. But when I stop it eats me alive. Sucks me under and all of a sudden I'm begging for the emptiness to leave. For the silence to stop screaming in my ears. My heart beat has become as irregular as my existence. Sometimes I can't breathe for want of you. I miss your presence, the calming elixir of your spirit.

Right now at this very moment, I want to fall asleep and never wake up. Unless I'm waking up with you.

The First Day of Summer

Tonight is the first time I've cried since Tuesday. I've been carrying around this lump in my throat for days. My eyes burn like a desert. I miss you. I miss my special someone. I miss being someone's special someone. I miss cuddling with you, listening to your heart, laughing. I really miss laughing. I hate acting like everything is ok when it's not. I talk like it's no big deal when my heart is frozen in that scream, that moment you left.

Oh babe, come back to me. You saved me from myself and now I'm alone. Back to pretending that I have it all together. I didn't have to pretend with you. You loved me just as I came.

I've hated my body since you left. The old annoyances have resurfaced with a vengance. I want out of my skin. My body feels heavy, lethargic, it feels its age, whatever 32 feels like. Your youth is gone and life is grim again.

You were my hope. You were my dream. You were the reality I wanted in so many ways.

Come home and love me again.

Amazingly enough, I slept through the night (thank goodness for sleeping pills), and actually got up. That was a semi-suprise. I've done rather well today. Rather meaning no major crying. Although I'm at work and not one to cry in public.

But with each passing minute I miss you more and more. I wish time would speed up. I'm not sure why, other than I'd like to get as far away from this pain as possible.

I miss you babe. Come home to me.

10:06am

Make it stop, make it stop.

I just walked into my room, full of your pictures and the magnitude of this morning threw me to the floor.

Come back. Come back to me. I want you back, I want my life with you back.

I can't sleep. I can't stop screaming. Do I take your pictures down? What do I do? I feel miserable, and it's only been 3 hours. 3 hours. I hate being human. I hate the primal emotion of loss. And there's nothing that will make it better, nothing. And that helplessness is the worst part.

6.17.08

8:05am

It’s done.

There really are those defining moments where everything moves so fast that you feel like it’s slow motion. You grow hyper aware of your surroundings, the trees, that bird squealing across the pond. You know it’s all playing in slow motion because you actually notice the change in your heart. Not a thud, not a crash. A hardening. “so this is what it’s like” you tell yourself, no longer wondering why people get sick at these moments.

Good-bye. You said “good bye”. With the authority of finality, you actually said them. The words choked in my throat. If there was ever something I never wanted to hear it was good-bye.

That final kiss is never as good as you hope and want it to be, it’s too fraught with anxious sorrow and the pleading that this really isn’t happening.

I watched as life took you away, the scream I have been carrying around for the last few a months slowly starting to escape. I watched until there was nothing left to watch.

Then I sat, on the side of the street that hasn’t completely succumbed to civility and waited. I sat and begged you to come back. Come back. Come back babe. Come back. I pet the sidewalk. Comforted by it’s cool roughness, knowing that of all the things around me, it was the only soul that understood. Come back. The words slowly changed to thoughts.

I sat there, knowing that the minute I stood up, I was accepting this. Accepting life as it exists at this moment. Accepting the rock in my chest. Accepting everything that no longer means anything.

I sat there. My begging turned into a hope that you’d come back. Then I stood, and my legs walked me back to the house. The house where you’re love no longer lives.

Less than a week. Today was the last Tuesday I'll have with you. As much as I hate thinking in terms of 'last' it's so much better than realizing the endless 'firsts' that await. The first Tuesday without you, the first week without you, the first month, year...firsts are so much worse than lasts.

Every cell in my body is screaming "NO". It's manageable during the day but the moment my head hits the pillow at night it takes over. Screams that only a mountain of sleeping pills and a river of tears can lull into silence.