Is it the End?
11:28 PM Edit This 3 Comments »
I am trying my best. I really am. I had supposed that this would be the summer of freedom. Freedom from my thoughts. Freedom from the demons, freedom from the obsessions, freedom from me, I guess. My head is not so okay. My body is not so okay either. I'm suffering from an emotional and spiritual drain that makes me oh so very tired. All of a sudden, things are so very real. I realize that the loss of Jason and the subsequent year of drinking afterward was all a blur - that I couldn't process a dang thing or make sense or know what day it was. It's been two and a half years now. This month. As much as I like to forget, anniversaries die hard when it comes to his death. I can pretend to forget about it, but it sneaks up on me even if I'm not looking. I try to evade the issue. I try to make fun of it all, but in the end, it hurts. If this is the end of the grief, I'll do it and not complain. If this is the beginning of the really hard place, I don't want anything to do with it.
Our life together was at one time immortalized through my pink glasses. In learning how to strip those memories of their color, I've come to believe that it was a farce. And yet love. So much love. I don't know how to make sense of that. I'd like to put him to rest. He's still in his dad's closet. In two urns. I don't like that. And I don't have a say in that. He wanted to be free. He wanted to be in the hills. But I can't make his family do it. I have no rights according to them. The acceptance of that is hard to come by.
I am sincerely hopeful that these past few weeks are the end of the grief. I can't do it for much longer. It hurts too much.
Our life together was at one time immortalized through my pink glasses. In learning how to strip those memories of their color, I've come to believe that it was a farce. And yet love. So much love. I don't know how to make sense of that. I'd like to put him to rest. He's still in his dad's closet. In two urns. I don't like that. And I don't have a say in that. He wanted to be free. He wanted to be in the hills. But I can't make his family do it. I have no rights according to them. The acceptance of that is hard to come by.
I am sincerely hopeful that these past few weeks are the end of the grief. I can't do it for much longer. It hurts too much.
3 comments:
Do you have someone to call just to vent?
Hugs!
so many things that I want to post to make things better for you. too hard to put into words.
you have the strength to deal with whatever comes your way, i know it. i wish i could blink my eyes, like a genie, and be at your side to give you hugs and talk.
stength to you, my dear.
When I feel like I'm at the end of my strength, I give in to the grief and cry - sobbing, hiccuping, gut-wrenching crying. When you're emotionally spent and have nothing left, you fall into a dreamless sleep and your body heals itself. It doesn't go away, but I find that the tears somehow clean things up around the edges and I get some clarity.
My mother has always told me that the only way to get over an old love is to find a new love. This isn't to say that you replace the person in your heart, but the emptiness that makes us dwell on them gets filled in with our current happiness. And while that happens, we heal. Our heart, without the constant interference from our brains, is able to repair the hurt and one day... it isn't so bad. Perhaps you need to find a new love. Not necessarily a person, but something that will make you happy, something outside of your norm.
Hang in there, Kate. Small changes... they lead to transformation, but you aren't aware of it while it happens. Just believe it will happen and one day... Your heart won't hurt so much.
Post a Comment