The Last of '08

Thanks for the birthday wish. My wish for 2009 is the same as it was for 2008: you

.

Babe,

I still feel connected to you. Still feel that you're connected to me too. I know you read my blog. I know you think of me.

We were meant to be together. We're suppose to be together. God put us together, we just need to put us together.

There are things I think but cannot say. The reality within is painful enough.

Empty

There's nothing left to say any more. Six months came and went, and you're still there and I'm still here.

That says it all.

Winter

I'm cold.
And achy.

Life is a Tragedy

It wasn't long ago...

...that I use to lie awake at night trying to comprehend the concept of a black hole, a self destructive vacuum of nothingness...and then I fell into one. I think I understand.

Dream

Last night I dreamt that we were together, and happy. Then you suddenly changed and started asking me what girls I would set you up with. I was crushed and started to cry. I went home and decided that I needed to tell you that our love was God given, that we had something very few people ever even get close to experiencing, that we could do it. I knew you wouldn't agree.

Then I woke up, a rush of relief that it was only a dream.

Then I really woke up and realized that dream is my reality, one from which I'll never awake.

Mess

I am a shattered mess. I was filled with an aching emptiness before you, endless joy and comfort with you and a gaping hole without you. 1/2 of my soul is missing. I feel completely broken. The zombie-like state seems to be getting worse. I go about my day but only my shell is alive, I, I am somewhere else. I desperately want to get over you before you get over me. Desperately. I'm competitive and to me this is a race. But I fear I will never get over you. Words were never enough to tell you what you meant to me. I thought about seeing you again. I would die of embarrassment: the 4th grade fat girl who has a crush on the popular boy. Only the popular boy doesn't have a crush on her---embarassing. To love and not be loved in return. That's who I am, the fat girl again. Only the boy did love me, he just didn't love my religion.

Strange

There is a heavy nothingness that has descended upon me. I can't even explain it. Good hell, I'm careening towards 6 months, 1/3 of the time I had you, and I feel like it was yesterday. I feel like happiness was only a day away. But it's almost 6 months. Strange, incomprehensible. My life is incomprehensible. No one can explain it to me. Grief has become my constant companion, and what a dreaded cloud of darkness that is. I don't know if it will ever be ok again. I don't know if I will ever wake up from this hell. My spirit has been sucked from me. Taken. I don't even know how to pretend. I'm beyond all feeling. Beyond all hope.

Thoughts

• I miss your gray sweater
• There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief
• Missing you isn't the hardest part, knowing I once had you is
• Nothing hurts more than waiting, since I don't even know what I'm waiting for anymore
• Although we've come to the end of the road, still I can't let you go. It's unnatural, you belong to me, I belong to you.
• I dropped a tear into the ocean; the day you find it is the day I will stop missing you
  

Thanksgiving

I'm thankful for you, even if you're gone. I had months loving and being loved. You were so much more than I could have ever wanted. I'm sick at how things have turned out. Sick.

Two Years

Two years ago today life gave me the greatest thing I've ever received: you. Two years ago today I discovered a happiness I never knew existed, unparalleled. Two years ago I entered the greatest dream I've ever dreamt. Two short years ago.

How quickly time slips by.

Each second is one we'll never get back.

All I have of you is a memory, a memory that is fading.

And thoughts. Thoughts of you in love with everyone but me.

I would be ok if I disappeared and never knew.

But something tells me I will.

And that will be the day I truly die.

You loved me.

A year ago you loved me.

Three months ago you loved me.

Time.

I'm growing old while you're growing younger.

I wish I were her. Waiting around the corner to meet you. Unaware of the amazing beauty that life is about to give me.

The sun has set in my world, but rising in hers.

I wish it was my turn,

again.

A Dream Within A Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

-Edgar Allan Poe

Unrequited Love

A horrible one sided battle

I live so far away
from myself
The last time
I met me
was when
I met you,
and since then
I haven’t met me.
I live so far away
from myself.
I want to meet me,
where are you?

-unknown

There is

so much to say
yet nothing at the same time
what's left?
everything
5 months and I still can't stop crying
5 months and I still live each day in a daze
the only thing I believe is that this is a nightmare
and eventually I'll wake up
next to you
and everything will be perfect again.

Whole

Healing is about learning how to live around the hole, not fill it. Nothing can fill it. That space was yours.

Resolved

I'm resolving myself to the fact that my beautiful charmed life no longer resists. I cry, but not as much. I still live in disbelief that in a matter of hours my life was irrevocably altered and nothing can put it back together. Yes, I'm resolved.

My heart still beats, without your love. My eyes still see, without the spark of the life you gave me. My lungs still breathe, without the sent of you. The pain is still there, but it's become a part of the fabric of who I am.

I am resolved.

I live because.
Just because.

I miss living because living with you was what I've always lived to do.

I am resolved,
But hollow.

And the week begins

The Reality

I'm racked with torment.

Another Day

I'm obsessed with time these days. I can't stop thinking about it. The hours just keep ticking by. Soon it will be the 17th and you will have been gone 5 months. I can't fathom it. After five comes 6. Half a year. It can't possibly have been that long since I saw you, touched you, loved you. It can't. The last 4+ months have been a complete blur, a thick haze, the worst storm I've ever endured. Denial. I live in total and complete denial. I wish I could will myself away, the pain is crushing. I'm not Atlas. Part of the problem is I carry you with me, I refuse to let you go. No matter how much logic fills my head, my heart continues to hold on. I continue to wish for you. Wait for you. I repeat the last works you said to me. How you were never yourself, stifled. I know you lied. The you I knew lied. We spent endless days together, nights together, weeks together. You didn't want to go out with anyone else because you couldn't get enough of me, those were your words not mine. But I repeat your last words, over and over again, hoping that they will ease my aching heart. They do, and they don't. Because the you that was when you were with me was genuine and real, but the you that is without me is someone else. Someone who would never have liked me to begin with.

My Answer

Today logic asked me why I went into debt to ship all of my stuff home with me. "That's a good question", I answered, and then fell into a mindful silence. My heart spoke up and responded, because of you. Because that is the bed where we slept, laughed, cried, and fell in love. Those are the dressers which were scattered with pictures of you, and us. And as crappy as it is, that is the bike I bought so we could 'exercise'....ha, ha, ha, how pathetic that was.

I went into debt because I couldn't leave you behind. I had to drag every minute detail with me. Even if logic does say it was foolish, my heart knows it's priceless.

I thought you'd like this one

It's entitle "Private Grief". It reminds me of the painting you liked at the Cincinnati Museum of art.

It was a miracle, you were my miracle

Two years ago today I prayed and asked God to send me someone. Three weeks later he sent me you. What a blessing you were. You loved me the way I always dreamed of being loved. You were more than I ever could have imagined.

Today I cried, tears of gratitude.
My heart ached, for you and the me I was when I was with you.

I’d do it again. I only wish I could make the same petition and get the same result: you.

No words necessary

Who Knew

A broken heart continues to beat, inspite of wishing it would stop.

Caro mio ben,

credimi almen, senza di te languisce il cor.

Another Blood Suday

I don't even know what to write.

It's been a week. A week since you said you were never able to fully be yourself with me. That I stifled you. That you wanted to experience the "finer things in life".

A week since I asked you to leave me alone.

You know, when we were together--inseparable--you said you were happy. That you'd never felt about someone the way you felt about me. That what we had was more real, more powerful, more than you had ever experienced. It couldn't have been more. Not if you were never fully you. Not if I stifled you. Not if I kept you from experiencing the "finer things in life". I admit, I was angry, very angry. Had I known you were trapped in a some conservative jar of my making I would have done you a favor and left. I never would you stayed another year, the year I stayed to be with you. I thought you were honest, maybe you were so stifled you didn't even realize your misery. I don't know. I'll never know.

I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a salt encrusted field caught in a perpetual wind.

Double Standard

"F**k off" eh?

Guess that means you're not coming.

Blatantly refused my apology eh?

Well, you didn't even say you were sorry.

Nice that you can throw daggers but can't handle them yourself.

It's all about you isn't it. All about you.

Today I hate.

Rally

I learned, while standing in the ER watching a girl die, that the heart rallies the hardest minutes before it officially gives up.

That's what you're doing.

But this time I'm prepared for the silence.

Ouch

I've felt the sting all day. The burning, piercing, lightening strike pain that only knowledge can so eloquently carve into one's soul. My soul cries for your soul. I. I am numb. But my soul waits on the front porch day in and day out, convinced you're coming back. Me, I know you're not. But I can't convince her otherwise. She's relentless in her optimism. I try and wrap her in the dark cloak of truth and drag her kicking and screaming to the mirror, but she won't look. Won't open her eyes and see what's so obviously not there: you.

Every day the sun rises and I say, "he didn't come, I knew he wouldn't". Then as the hours slip by and the moon eases its way into the sky I look at her. She stares back, pitiful and bright eyed, stating with the surety of a child, "not today, but tonight".

I keep waiting for the day when she'll catch up with the rest of me, shoulders hung in defeat, eyes downcast, tired and worn. I wait and dread that moment when the last piece slowly falls into place and I am whole again. I feel like I've been waiting a long, long time. I pray I don't have to wait much longer.

To me you were a wonderful dream.
To me you are a nightmare.
To me you will be a memory.
One day. One day soon.

Disenchanted

I am.

The magic is gone, replaced by the brutal reality of what is, not what I want it to be

WHY DO I CARE????

Why do I bloody care today? When did this f'n hope slither back in? It's poisoning my soul and adding to my craziness. I feel that it's forced me back into the cage I thought I left behind. My mind wanders, and worries, and thinks of the most horrid scenarios. You, without me. With someone else. Angry. Annoyed. Regretful. They all combine in the most excruciating scene that plays over and over and over in my head.

I can't do it any more. I won't do it any more. The game is up. I surrender. I thought I already did this but I guess I have to do it again. For THE LAST time. I swear it's the last time.

I hate Sundays

I hate them. Everything is exacerbated on Sundays. Too much time to think, and even more time to feel. Today I feel. I was doing so good numbing out, but it caught up with me today. If I had any tears left I'm sure I'd cry. But I'm all dried up. So no tears, just a dull ache in the pit of my stomach and heaviness in my chest. What to do, what to do. You were more invasive this week than you've been in two months. I stopped sleeping again. Not that I ever really slept, but there were three days of complete peace and slumber. That seems to have vanished, along with my strength to do what needs to be done. It's because you've been nice and more attentive this last week than you've been in months. Just when I was getting use to the asshole who took you away, you come back. I prayed for this several weeks ago. Of course you haven't come back, not really. I live in fear and denial. I had taken two steps into the realm of moving on and then you called my name. What did I do? I turned around and looked back. Should have focused on the road ahead and kept moving. Now I know less than I knew a week ago. So confused. I honestly wonder what you want. What do you want from me? You made yourself so clear, you buried your half and moved on. Or at least that's what you told me. So why the return? What freaked you out to the point of coming back? And are you genuine or is this just a weak phase. I'm betting on weak phase. I thought you'd have cracked by now. I though wrong. But this week, this week you'll cave, and leave as randomly as you came back.

I should hate you for this.
I should hate me for this.

Curiosity killed the cat
This cat is tired of being killed but can't help wondering.
Gets me in trouble every time.

Split

I wonder what it would be like to not think about this, you, everything. It's consuming and exhausting. I think about it when I wake up, during the day, as I sleep. I'm constantly thinking. It's getting to the point where I'm frustrated and resentful that you occupy so much of my time and energy. I mean it's not your fault, but it's still you. And how awful is it that THE day I start to feel peace, THE day I feel like I can let you go and not completely fall apart, THE day I feel strong, you come back. I've wanted you to come back for months; but not now, not when I've cried all I have to cry, and given you everything I have to give. I feel like I'm continually being robbed of my sanity. I can't live in this tide, no one can live in this tide. You love me. You don't love me. You love me. You don't love me. It's like pulling petals off a never ending flower. I don't trust you any more, one more loss. Part of me wants to, but reality tells me I can't. Words are easy, putting those words into practice takes so much more. I honestly don't believe you have it in you. I wish you did, but I know you well enough to know that it's too overwhelming to even entertain. I'm too overwhelming to entertain. Yes, I want to see you again, I want to touch you again, and hold you again, and laugh with you again. No, I don't want to see you and realize that the love really is gone, and we're better off walking our separate paths. Either way it's misery. Complete and utter misery. That's what you are becoming to me, excruciating pain. The hollow ache that won't go away. The wound that continually gets ripped open. The breath keeps getting knocked out of me. It took me so long to stand up, and now I'm back down again, gasping for air and looking for an escape.

It's been four months. Four long, miserable months. What made you think there is anything left to be salvaged? You asked me to give up, and that's what I did. Why is it now, after I've crested the mountain and started walking to the other side that you come back? I don't know what to believe any more, so I don't believe anything. I do what I can to stifle the pitiful hope that creeps in and taints my spirit.

You said you'd call. I don't believe you.
You said you were coming. I don't believe you.
You said you love me. I don't believe you.

You are scared
You are confused
You are miserable without me but not able to mend that misery
You hate that I left, took back some control and left you alone
You lie to yourself, and me
You. You exhaust me.

Please stop toying with me.
Please pick a side and stay there.
Please come back and make this better.
Please stay away and don't make this any worse.
Please, please, please.

I don't know any more

I've entered the land of apathy where I no longer know anything. Days are spent tiptoeing around the shadows--pure avoidance. You come back, you go away, you come back, you go away. Each time you return I hope, only to have that hope taken back. I don't even hope anymore. I've been forced into numbness, it's the only coping mechanism I have left. I don't know what I believe. My mind, my heart, they don't know either. I see the value in walking away, letting it all slip into the River Styx. That thin line separating mortality and Hell. I think I've been living in Hell, and I need to wade back to something real. I just don't know if you'll ever wade with me.

Hey love.

It's Friday night and I'm scrambling for something to do...other than think about what you're doing and who your not thinking about: me. I wish it were one of the 75 Fridays we spent together doing whatever it was we wanted to do. I wish we were curled up on the couch, watching a moving, while the rain pours down outside. I wish we were laughing, and teasing each other. I wish I felt safe. I wish I didn't cry all of the time. I wish, I wish, I wish.

Today was another day without you.

I wonder what another day without me is like.

It's always the same

Every night. Every night I dream of you. Every morning I wake up around 5, drowning in your absence. EVERY NIGHT it's the same. It's exhausting. I have a headache. I have a heart ache. Everything aches. I incessantly check my email, as you once did, to see if by some miracle there's something from you. There never is but I keep on wishing. Hoping. It's a compulsion I can't stop. Damn this situation. Damn life. Damn everything that brought me here. Damn myself for taking this path. Damn, Damn, Damn.

Please go away

I'm tired of the dreams. I'm tired of waking up, the dark feeling of abandonment hovering over my head. I hate being left behind, forgotten, put away in a small recess of a self-denying heart.

I hate that I have to hate.

Sadness

You're fading love. The burn is subsiding. I only miss the excruciating pain because it let me know that I was still in love with you. As it fades, so will my love. One day it will be completely extinguished and I'll no longer remember.

One more thing to mourn.

I hate that the prayers I really want answered aren't, while those I ask only because I know I should are.

Yesterday I cried

But only because of the embarrassment, shame, and extreme regret I felt when thinking of you

This morning I woke up and my first thought was about how you weren't my first thought. It wasn't accompanied by the usual shot of hot lightening through my heart. That made me panic because the moment that ceases, you'll cease and never come back. The emotional connection will be gone, and so will you.

The sweet freedom you asked for.

I wish you were here so I could look you in the eye and then turn and walk away, silently.

Tonight I regret you.

Everything.

I hate myself for all of it.

I wish I'd never met you.

I was better off not knowing.

When will it end?

I feel shackled. Totally and completely chained to misery and its almost unbearable heaviness. The fire continues to burn in my chest. I loath nights when there's nothing left to occupy my time and all I do is wait for the moment when I can knock myself unconscious and slip away from it all. Not that you don't haunt me in my dreams, becuase you do. Relentlessly. Can't I even have a moment without you? You've become too much for me to deal with.

Honestly.

When will you let go.


When will I let go.

I should have fought harder. I should have done more. I shouldn’t have sat back and let it all just happen.

I should have fought harder.

Sad Realization

No amount of tears will bring him back. If there were, he would have been resurrected a hundred times by now.

Who knew

Why is it I wake up every day and it's either the 17th or the 23rd? The two worst days to ever exist. Prime numbers are bad omens.

I can't miss you today because I am on the cusp of insanity. My feeling of worthlessness has peaked and if you were here I'm sure you'd be as disappointed in me as I am.

I hate the 23rd. It's just one more reminder of what it was like to be happy.

Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.
C. S. Lewis

We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be"--C.S. Lewis

I miss you

9.14.08

9.14.08
In movies ghosts are gossamer shadows flicking around, pricking at your skin. But in reality they are the mill weights shackled around our necks that drag us down into the hellish fire and brimstone of grief’s cruel underworld. Your ghost haunts me daily, I live for the tender brief moments of relief when I am able to push you away and free myself of each soured memory. It’s agonizing to realize that the only balm for my soul is twisted anger. Not at you, surely, but at myself for believing water once turned into wine and that love is eternal.

In three days time = the 17th. The bloodiest of all bloody days. Three months of living in a hell even Satan shudders to consider.

My insides are on fire. Burning with grief, anger, disbelief, and denial. I don't know how many times I've thought it or begged God, this simply can't be over. You can't be gone. We belong together, we're made for each other. You are the half that makes the other worth while. I will gladly crawl 1,000 miles to be near you. Why did it have to be God? I can't resolve it. I can't deal with it. I can't believe it.

I just keep on burning.

I didn't sleep last night, up from 2 till dawn just trying to not think. Because all there is when I close my eyes is an empty darkness where you use to be.

So this is death. To wake up and realize the best part of you is missing, and never coming back. This is what it’s like to lose not only your love, but your best friend. This is what Lewis so eloquently described, the fear-like feeling of being robbed of everything you had, and everything you didn’t.

My life has been nothing but junk mail for the last two months, endless envelopes of useless trash filling my life. The rising stacks of empty day-to-day living are piling up all around me, each hour dropping another envelope on the already littered floor. You would think one as compulsive as I would sweep it into a pile and throw it away, or at least stack it neatly in a corner. But I don’t because among the credit card applications and insurance offers I imagine there’s a note from you, a promise that you’re coming back. The chaos keeps me safe from the truth.

Some days I’m able to live in anger and forced excitement as I relish in my voracious independence. I tell them I’m ready and pretend that filling my time with someone else is the much-needed anesthesia. It’s the lie I tell myself because I know that within hours you will drag me back to the pit of reality. Not you, but the haunting memory of you. You did it the other day in the car. Stuck in traffic I grabbed my notepad, reading my random scribbles, I turned a page and there you were: June 13 “I will always love you”. I wonder what the word ‘always’ even means. I think always ended on June 17th.

I pathetically carry my phone with me everywhere, hoping you'll call. You won't, and if you did you wouldn't be the you that left.

I can't do this anymore. It's overwhelming. My heart aches so bad I'm sick. All I want to do is cut, some physical pain that will ease what's going on inside. My insides are a mess, I'm a mess. It's one of those moments when you pray that someone will call but no one does. I'm just trying to stay upstairs because the razors are downstairs, and if I go down there I'm going to cut. I'm such a drama queen

Night

If you listen closely you can hear doors slamming. Closets full of memories, love, freedom, honesty, and truth locked behind a door for which only you have the key.

33 days and counting

In three days we would have been together 20 months. 20 is a good number. 19 just wasn't enough.

one month

It's like staring at your arm rot with gangrene. You look, trying to will it back to life. The surgeon impatiently demands that it needs to be removed before the infection spreads, tainting the rest of your blood. But you stare, denying that life can exist without touching, feeling, holding. You weigh the options, realizing that the option you want doesn't exist. So you wait and stare, ignoring the calls to reason, just hoping the infection kills your heart before it breaks.

A month. You've been gone a month. I still don't believe it's true. Surely something as amazing, real, and wonderful as what we shared would bring you back to me. My heart is so in love with you it can't fathom moving on. I hate time, I hate that each ticking second takes you farther away from me. I'm holding on to you so hard, and fear that you're loosening your grip. I don't want to let go.

And I am tortured by free time. You were what I looked forward to, every day I woke up to you, every night I slept in dreams of you. But now there is nothing but endless free time. No part of the day is pain free.

I miss laughing.

7.7.08

I am so laden with sadness I can hardly lift my head off the pillow. The more time that lapses between us makes this more and more real. The reality that you're not returning. The reality that you wouldn't, even if you could. You were my life, and I yours. So to think that you are still my life, and I'm no longer yours is driving me nuts. Completely nuts.

My life has fallen down
around me before,
--lots of times,
for lots of reasons--
usually other people.

And most of the time
I was fortunate enough
to have a large lump of
that life hit me on the
head and render me numb
to the pain & desolation
that followed.
And I survived.
And I live to love again.

But this,
this slow erosion from below
--or within--
it's me falling down around my life
--but not really.
And you're out of that life
--but not quite.

-P. McWilliams

all i need is
someone to
talk to
about
you
but
you
are the
only person
I can really
talk to.
trapped.

-P. McWilliams

It's becoming more and more unbearable. I obsessively think about you more now than I did when I was with you. Who knew that was possible. The ache is growing bigger and bigger each day. I wonder how you are, how you really are. Happy? Happier without me? Do you cry for me the way I cry for you?

The lump in my throat only seems to be getting bigger.

At night when I crawl into bed I snuggle up against a big hard pillow, telling myself that it's your back I'm rubbing. A pathetic substitute for reality. Of course at the moment I hate reality.

Panicked fear.

Couples don't bother you until you're no longer a part of one, and then they just become miserable reminders of the one you lost.

Dread.

I want to talk to you like we use to talk. I want to laugh with you. I want to touch you. I want to love you. I want to kiss you. I want to be with you.

Damn, I want to be with you

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.

I woke up and wished I was dead, with and aching in my head, I lay motionless in bed. I thought of you, and where you'd gone, and the world spin madly on. --The Weepies

My heart is breaking, it's ok during the day when monotonous work fills up the silence, but late at night when it's just me it's like listening to ice cracking. The fissures are going every which way, like a tangled spiderweb. Slowly but surely. I question the sanity in even trying to stop it, I just hope it cracks to the point of silence. Silence.

I'm going to go crazy, that's the only sure thing at this moment. That's the only thing I can count on, it will be there, like it's been in the past and I will starve, and purge, and cut and do whatever I have to just to get up in the morning. That's all I know.

I miss the ocean.

Three weeks, that's about all that's left.

Damn, why won't the clock stop ticking?

I need to jump out of a plane, something, anything to gain control of the uncontrollable.

This weekend has been perfect. 36 hours of you. Last night you said you didn't want things to change. If wishing could alter time, we would have altered it long ago, remaining as we are now, in love, in peace, in comfort, in each other's care. I was serious when I said that I wanted to marry you, as serious as a heart can get. I was serious when I said that I love you, forever. Because I have, I do, and I will. Sleeping in your arms is the best thing life has given me. Feeling the soothing rise and fall of you chest as you breathe, listening to your heart, smelling your intoxicating sweet breathe, all things I'm rushing to memorize. Life has taken on a strange preparation. My only want is to burn everything about you, us, into my memory. Every thought, sound, taste, touch, and smell. Everything you. Everything I can take with me when you're gone.

I know the time is drawing closer, and I still can't imagine how I am going to make it. How will I get up the day after and care that the rest of the world keeps spinning when mine has been thrown off of its axis? It's as if my future is about to hit a wall, and what lies beyond it is completely inconsequential. Life becomes colorless after that day, awash in gray.

"Sometimes ...you need to feel hopeless before you feel a shred of optimism."

I bloody hate myself right now. I'm in the mood to cut, bleed, to watch the crimson flow from my veins. Our time is short and my mouth did nothing but damage you today. I am so filled with hatred I could scream but instead I'll scratch, and create a bruise big enough and black enough to show my penance. I pray you can forgive me love, for my stupidity, my insults, my inability to be a decent human...I should be hurt because I hurt you.

You're the one who brought it up today. There were no "what if"s just a bunch of "when"s.

I spent half the night and almost the entire day looking at Gibson Les Paul guitars today. It's the one thing I want to give you, the last thing I'll probably ever give you. I've been racking my brain trying to come up with the perfect gift, the perfect something that would say it all. I think the Les Paul is it. Why? Because they're made of mahogony,the same color as your beautiful eyes. Because they sing beautifully. Because I love listening to you play. Because it's a classic. And because it's timeless. And I desparately want us to be timeless.

When you play it, I hope you think of me.

I've done so good keeping it at bay but the wave just came crashing down. I hate being slammed back down to the bottom of the mire. My heart feels like it's going to explode. I want to vomit. I want to rush to you and tell you how much this hurts, to watch the sand fall through the hourglass and to know there's nothing I can do about it. I want to tell you, but I can't, and one day soon I won't be able to.

More than anything I wish I could go with you.

I've been playing it out in my mind
the way it's going to end
The time and day change but the end remains the same
I'll most likely spend the preceding days and nights attached to your side
inhaling each exhale as if it were your last
Then,
when you're gone and the reality of what was is not what is
I'll crumble
as if built of marbles
into a million tiny parts
on the last place I kissed you,
the last place I whispered I love you
the last place that was me
the me that is you
some of my parts will roll away
after you
some will be lost
forgotten
and some will heave
the torrential downpour
that is sure to come
as I scramble
there on the sidewalk
to find you

Things I swore

I always promised myself that when faced with a terminal illness I would look it straight in the eye and laugh as I continued living, even if it was in the shadow of a foreseen end.

I was wrong.