5 Down.

This coming Sunday, January 17, Chris and I would have been married for 6 years. After Sunday, I will have made it through yet another concentrated anniversary season crammed into its usual 3-month span:

Nov. 23 – Chris’ Birthday
Thanksgiving – Chris’ favorite holiday
Christmas – The last time I rushed Chris to the hospital
New Years Day – Chris’ last day
January 17 – Our wedding anniversary

Even at the 5-year mark, I had a rough go of it this year. I fell a couple of times, cried more that I wanted to, hurt from a place inside that I just can’t reach.

The big difference this year is that I am in love with Jonathan. While our lovely relationship doesn’t obliterate my grief, it helps me to move forward, to realize that I am now living in the present, possibly for the first time in five years.

I will always miss my Chris and I am so thankful that so much of him now resides in me, because he was such a great, fun, sweet, creative and kind man, and I get to keep all of that positive energy within myself, and give it to others in my life.

5 years feels different. Chris has become a distant memory; a happy one and a sad one. I have placed him where he belongs, in my past, even though I have carried his beliefs, mannerisms and values into my present. We’ll see each other again…and again…and again…and again… and I’ll get to introduce Jonathan and Chris, if they haven’t already met before…and before…and before.

Cheers,
Shneed

Rite of Passage

My new life has begun. I’m tired. I have given up my fight, a fight I can’t win, anyway. Chris is gone. No matter how much I screamed and cried over the past five years, he was never coming back. He’s gone.

I miss him, greatly, even now, and I’m still so sorry for what happened to him. Terminal illness is horrifying for the afflicted, and extremely painful…and sad.
We laughed. We laughed a lot. We also bickered and annoyed each other. And I learned what love is, and I really, really wanted to keep it. I didn’t know I wasn’t done searching, yet.

However silly the notion, I still wonder if he remembers me.

The good news is that the fog is gone. I see us for what we were, and neither of us stands on a pedestal in my memory. We were just doing our best, and our best was the best I had ever experienced. What I have learned is that absolutely everything in life is a gift intended to help us learn and grow.

Jonathan and I share a whole different best. It’s nice, too. I love him. He loves me. We’re good together. And I wonder if I’ll ever really allow myself to let go completely, or if I’ll be scared forever.

Five years is a long time. I have arrived at a rite of passage, from the past into the present, and I will continue with my life with Jonathan as we share a brand new future together.

Fighting It

I’m more tired than I should have probably let myself get, tonight. I left work with the best of intentions, did a bit of Christmas shopping, called some friends, hopped on the bus and started home. I stepped off of the bus and began to walk through the park to my apartment and suddenly found myself crying.

I hate nights like these. My crying-while-walking-home spells have become very few and far between, but when they hit, I don’t even try to stop them. I have only my tears to pay tribute to Chris and if I have to stop, I don’t know how I would reassure the memory of him that I cared, that I still care, that I loved him and that I will always love him. It’s a game I play with myself.

I cried for a while, and then ate, and then toyed with my computer and now I’m over-ready for bed, drunk with exhaustion. I could fall asleep right here on the couch with my fingers still on the keyboard.

In just 2 weeks, Chris will be 5-years gone. I hate that.

And just like that…

I didn’t go to work, today. I’m not feeling well. I still feel guilty because, by most peoples’ standards, ‘sad’ doesn’t really qualify as ‘not feeling well.’ I woke up and started to get ready for work and then decided that I needed to stay home, instead.

Chris’ birthday is in 2 weeks, and even though I didn’t feel like I was going to be sad, sadness kicked in last night and spilled into today. I’m taking the day to cry, to fall, and to pick myself back up and continue on. In a perfect world, I would run and lift weights tonight in the spirit of feeling better. Right now, I couldn’t even begin to set foot out of my apartment.

The more Jonathan and I talk about getting engaged, married, living together and having a baby, the more I feel like I’m laying Chris to rest. I’m scared. After almost five years, I’m still afraid of losing him…even though I already lost him. I just want to be with Jonathan, now. I want to feel safe with him and secure that he’s not going to go anywhere or die on me.

I’m ready to step outside of the past and into the future…almost. Five years. How did this happen? Where did the time go? Where did my old life go?
Okay. Enough. I’m just waiting for Jonathan. His going away on business has triggered a small grief-spell in me. I want him here. With me.

I’ll just cry myself out, and then try to go to the gym, tonight.

Shneed

Admittance

Being smarter than myself is crucial to my forward movement. I am an extremely self-aware person and as such, I have found that being able to decipher and dismantle my psychological facades has proved to be a most helpful skill.

Most of the admissions I make evolve out of writing about my emotions and thoughts surrounding my tragedy.

After writing about my perceived distance between Jonathan and me, I admitted the possibility that I, myself, might be responsible for our stagnating would-be growth. I began to take steps to pull down the barrier I had built between my past and my present. It wasn’t an easy task.

I began by talking a little bit more to Jonathan about what upsets me, how I feel about him, and what I want in life and in love. He also shared his own needs with me. It was hard. I had to keep nudging myself forward even though my heels were planted firmly in my past.

Jonathan is too good a man for me to give only choice parts of myself. He deserves my passion, my honesty and all of my love. We are both alive. My love no longer belongs to Chris. Only my love of his memory does.

There are still some things I cannot do, yet.

I planned to swap the lamp next to my bed with the lamp in my office, the other day. I entered my bedroom, office-lamp in hand and I froze. Chris picked out the bedside lamp. He didn’t even like home décor, and I remember wanting to encourage him, since he took the leap and chose an accent for our apartment. How could I say no? It wasn’t my type of lamp, but he picked it and I loved it for that reason, alone. I couldn’t move it. My body wouldn’t let me.

I have been wanting to watch our wedding video, lately, but I’m too afraid to see him in motion. I’m afraid I’ll cry and I won’t be able to stop. I still have trouble with the truth that a person who exists on earth can, one day, cease to exist.

Intellectually, I get it, but on a very basic level, I just don’t understand. And sometimes I still feel like I did something wrong, even though I know it isn’t true.
I had the most wonderful weekend with Jonathan. I am letting myself go. I’m letting myself live. I’m letting myself grow with him and I am letting myself begin to place my memories of Chris into storage, as cruel as that sounds.

I’m finally in love, again. I didn’t believe I could be. I never believed I would let myself be. I think about Jonathan and I feel safe, even though I know safety doesn’t really exist. Life exists. The ‘here and now’ exists.

And the only guarantee I have in life is the knowledge that I exist right now, in this very moment. And I believe that I will, someday, be reunited with everyone who has ceased to exist.

The Ritualistic Autumn Fall

I feel like I haven't written in forever, but only one month has passed since my last entry.

I'm having "one of those nights" this evening. With autumn, always comes a great sadness for me, operating right alongside a great happiness. I don't know if I'm making sense. I only know that I have waited all year for this beautiful weather to come, and I love it....by day. By night, I'm sad. I miss him. The void is gutting me tonight.

I still know everything he would say in reply to anything I might say. Chris and I were fused in some way. I could feel it. We were cut from the same mold. My best friend. And he understood me like nobody else ever has.

The night's fall temperature and ever-earlier darkness brought me right back to my week-nightly walk up Pearson Road, straining to see the warm, amber lights glowing from our apartment windows. When I saw them, I knew he was there. Home. And I was so happy to be there.

After Chris died, I bought some timers for the lamps in our apartment, so I wouldn't have to come home to darkness. I used to fool myself on the way up the street. I wanted him to be there. I wanted to laugh with him. We truly enhanced each other.

And tonight, for some reason, I feel like screaming.

I don't know what's going to happen with me and Jonathan. There's a distance that perhaps only I feel. It's possible that I put it there and that I keep it there. I don't know.

I'm too scared to share my grief with him. How do you tell someone that you love that he's not the only one, that you have never been able to pull the knife out of your heart? It's still there.

I want to go to heaven and say hello to my husband.

Someday, I suppose I will.

I hope he'll be waiting for me.

My Very Freudian Dream

Last night, I dreamed that Chris and I had moved into a new apartment in a bad part of town. I was scared. I left to go running and ran about halfway up the street, when I found myself feeling as though I had run into the middle of imminent danger. I turned and looked, and saw a man standing behind me, immediately became alarmed and ran, as fast as I could, to get away from him. When I stopped and looked ahead, past our new, decrepid, ramshackle apartment, I saw a beautiful horizon, blue sunny skies, a big orange sun and green lawns and mansions as far as I could see. Behind me, things were ugly, scary and gray, but up ahead there seemed to be warmth and hope. I stood in place for a moment, taking in the beautiful promise up ahead. I turned, once again, to look behind me and saw gray, cold structures, and felt mean undertones, and saw men dressed freakishly and evil clown-like, one in a hot pink tutu and one in women’s clothing and smeared hot pink lipstick. The scary man behind me was still there, dressed as though he had just stepped out of an old western. The scene reminded me of a circus. I looked ahead of me again and saw beauty. I wanted it so much, but I stood still, gazing and feeling like I could run towards the sun and be in that picture instead of the one I was in.

I am in love with Jonathan. We’re in love with each other. Last night was our one-year dating anniversary, and I wished it was our one-year wedding anniversary.

I think, eventually, it will be.

Still frozen, yet steadily thawing,

Shneed