Thank You and good Night?

I hated every minute of my therapy session yesterday. I had nothing of note to say because it seems as though nothing is bothering me since I made a decision to step out of my grief. I voiced my worry that I was completely disinteresting to Clay and now he wants to delve further into why I think I’m boring. Things got way off track.

I still feel horror when I say the words, “since Chris died” in a sentence. I said them to my mother a short while ago.

I have my third cold since Chris died. The entire time he was battling his disease, I was as well as well can be. I had nary a common cold the entire time. I guess I knew I couldn’t be sick. Getting sick would have jeopardized his health, so I just didn’t do it.

I talked with Clay about how bad I feel that I couldn’t help Chris with whatever horrors that were in his own head during his illness. I know he must have been terrified, depressed, freaked out and a whole host of other feelings that must come with the knowledge that you’re toting a grapefruit sized tumor around in your stomach. I wish I could have helped more. I’m sure he felt very isolated.

I feel more well than I have felt since this entire ordeal began, though. My decision to push it all aside seems to be helping. We’ll see how long that lasts or if it does become semi-permanent, save for those moments when I’m alone with myself, what gifts will come my way as a result. Love? Maybe.

The second spring is in the air. I can remember last spring and how the sun couldn’t penetrate the clouds in my soul. There are cracks in the wall now, though, and the sun is beginning to seep in and warm the coldest part of my heart. I guess healing happens, despite the guilt that can threaten to keep it at bay.

I will love my husband forever, to the extent that my own heart remains outside of my own body, stretching into the direction of my sweetheart, wherever he may be these days. He taught me how to love.

I think I’m getting tired of hashing and rehashing it all with Clay. I mentioned that to him yesterday and talked about how long I’m supposed to keep coming. Time time may shortly arrive when it will be time to say “Thank you and good night.” and my Thursday evenings will, once again, be mine to do with what I want.