"I love you. I love you, I love you. I love you so much. I love you I love you I love you."
I don’t ever want to forget what it felt like to love that much. My love for Chris was that strong. It will always be that strong. I don’t love anybody else that much. Just Chris. Always Chris.
I should probably stop calling date-guy “date-guy” and give him a name. I don’t want to yet, though. If I give him a name, I’ll have to admit that he has a presense in my life and I’m not ready to do that, yet.
I don’t love him. I won’t love him. I don’t think he’s the one, anyway, or the “two” as it were. Chris was the one. He will always be the one. .
We had a nice time. It was nice to be out with a man, again. I can’t help but compare my life now to my life then. Tonight I was in Peabody having dinner at Vinny T’s. Chris and I would never have had dinner at Vinny T’s and we certainly wouldn’t have driven to a suburb to dine in a restaurant. We would have walked to Davis Square or Teele Square to eat dinner and then walked home.
I keep keeping date-guy at bay. I’m not sure that I like him in a romantic way. He’s a nice guy, though, and we like the same things. Liking the same things doesn’t always make for romance, though.
I knew I was going to explode the moment I put the key in the door and I began to on my way up the stairs. I stood in the dark, at my butcher block, my hands on it’s surface, crying, wishing Chris was still alive to share my life with. I’m heartsick.
Because I never turned the lights on, I could imagine that Chris was in bed, where he always was when I came home late. I tried to see him there. I rubbed my pillow, trying to remember what rubbing his back felt like. I couldn’t do it. Not completely. I have a sense of what it felt like to love him but not a solid memory. I don’t really remember what it felt like to love Chris before we ever went to Los Angeles. I don’t think I loved him as deeply before he got sick as I did afterwards. I wanted him to get well so I could keep loving him and so we could grow into that great love together, thankful for his recovery. That’s the way it should have happened.
I have a wicked headache. I’m tired. I’m proud of myself for rating a second date with a guy.
I have a date with another guy Tuesday night. I guess I’ll call him date-guy2. That’s it, though. I’m not dating anybody else. If nothing develops with either of these guys, I’m hanging up my prospects and focusing on school for a while.
This is difficult, but I have proved to myself that I can do it. Now I’m going to prove to myself that I can get up and run six miles.
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There! I'm caught up again! You're doing fine, you're doing what is expected and you're seeing more signs of life within yourself. I could feel that in your hug when you left Portland two weeks ago...a sign of life within yourself. Keep on. I love you too.
ReplyDeleteThat hug PUT a lot of life back in me. You know how to give 'em.
ReplyDeleteI have been reading all night - your entire story from beginning to end. I felt your pain, your ups and downs, and I can feel your progress. You are amazing, and you have been through a lot, and the last 4 hours of reading have taken me through your last 3 years of pain. I cried, and I laughed, and I miss Chris as well. Take care, and you and Chris are in our thoughts.
ReplyDeleteThank you very much, Trevor. I'm glad you enjoyed the trip. I do enjoy writing and this blog has been a valuable outlet for me over the past couple of years. My journey has been tough and I still have a long way to go, but I believe I am going in a good direction, one that makes me proud...and one that would make Chris proud. Thank you for your thoughts.
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