Love is a Little Piece of a Sausage

It’s midnight. I have to get up at 5:30, but I have been reluctant to go to the bedroom.

This evening at rehearsal, I couldn’t wait to get home the entire time. I wasn’t in the mood to work at anything, even music.

I began to cry on the drive home. I think all of these thoughts about dating have pushed me off balance again. I cried very hard when I got into my apartment. I talked to Chris, telling him that I wish he was here that I want him back that I want him not to be dead and everything else I always tell him when I’m in that state of mind. Tonight was rough.

I need to go to bed so I won’t be tired tomorrow, but I’m having that all too familiar feeling of reluctance. I don’t want to go. I want my life to return to what it was before Chris got sick and I want us to have a second chance. But that isn’t going to happen. There is no second chance.

I don’t think I can be with somebody else. The thought of looking across the table and seeing someone other than Chris is too much for me to handle. I dabble, here and there, in thoughts of dating. I almost joined eHarmony. I almost joined Match.com. I browse the sites, but I just can’t bring myself to join. I don’t know what to do.

Chris used to make pasta with vegetarian sausage. He was insistent upon boiling the sausages in water before frying them in a pan, even though they were vegetarian. I used to make fun of him for his cooking habits because he followed directions precisely and refused to stray. Whenever he made pasta and sausage, he would cut a little piece off of a sausage and bring it over to me to eat. It sounds so trivial, but it was special. He knew I wanted to try just a little piece so he would always bring me one.

I’m not going to be able to give another man a chance. I know it. I’m just going to keep seeing Chris in my mind and crashing every time I return to the present and see whoever is really there.

I don’t want to imprison myself, but I’m doing it. Maybe it just isn’t time, yet. I feel pressure. I promised myself I wouldn’t spend another year alone. I think I’m just weakened tonight.

I’m going to get up and force myself to go to sleep.