Today I had at least three separate inconsolable grief breakdowns. I could not stop thinking about Chris, the things we did together, the horrible events of last December, what he must have been feeling, the shock I was feeling and knowing he was going to die for four days.
I then moved onto our chance meeting, how adorable he was that day, the scenery, giving him a ride home, having him ask me out, beginning to get to know each other and exchanging phone numbers.
From there, I tortured myself with our first few dates, remembering the weather, his coat, my car, the first time he touched me.
All of this came into my head, rapid-fire causing me to laugh, cry, scream, yearn and snap into near insanity, grief so intense that I coudn’t see a way out. My life became black today and I felt like I didn’t want to live without him anymore.
Sitting in front of my collage of pictures of him, I could see myself smashing my forehead into it, breaking the glass and cutting myself with it. Sometimes I swear to God that if I didn’t believe from my core that suicide is wrong and an interruption of natural occurrences, I would leave this place just to escape the pain and just to see Chris, again.
I don’t know why I keep trying. There’s something deep within me that knows that I must continue living my life. I think I have been expecting too much from myself. There’s no way that one year is near enough time to grieve a loss of this magnitude.
Moving on is a thing of the future for me. For now, I just need to breakdown until I wake up one day feeling better.
Today I thought I was inconsolable, but it turns out that Ativan, my social worker in a bottle, had the power to console me all along.
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