I have spent the last week depressed, in a fog, simply putting one foot in front of the other… or keeping both of my feet firmly tucked into bed. I finally cleaned up our hobby mess from the dining room. Fixed the modem. Watered the plants. Grocery shopping. Haircut. A dozen meaningless actions. Then I read 6 books in one weekend and felt terrible about myself.
I am doing everything I can to avoid thinking about us, about the future and even about me. I started using your towel hook in the bathroom and keep kicking myself for it. I finally put your shoes away in the closet. I hate doing laundry when nothing of yours is in the hamper. I want to keep you here with me, but I know you won’t be coming back and anything I do to recognize that hurts. I feel guilty for living my life without you, even though I am not living my life at all.
I had a grief session today and realized all of these things make me feel like I am trying to forget you. I am having difficulty with the fact that you are not here so all of these things are what I have left of you. But they are just things. I am scared to move forward without you. I feel guilty for even thinking about who I am without you.
Before you I was my job. For 20 years I was completely tied up in work. Then when I moved across country to be with you I became “us.” We lived together, worked together, did everything together. I let down my guard and trusted we could actually forge a new future as long as we had each other. Now you are gone. Now it’s just me.
Who the hell am I? I am angry I even have to ask that question. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. But I don’t really have much of a choice, and that pisses me off more than anything else. It is bad enough I have to live without you, now I have to figure out who I am going to be without you. I can’t go back to being that girl who works 16 hour days, 7 days a week. I can’t go back to relying on a company who only intends to drain me for all I can give then toss me aside for the next fresh corpse. The thought of being who I was before you is so appalling I get physically nauseous, it is nearly crippling.
So now what? I don’t need to figure that out today, but I do need to figure it out. What if the person I want to be can’t support herself? What if I can’t be that person here, where we made a home? What if I discover I don’t want to be anything without you… worse, what if I do? What if someday I discover I can be happy without you? What if someday I can answer that question, “who are you?” and it has nothing to do with you at all?
How do I take you with me when you are not here anymore? I miss you, Honey. I love you.