The normality starts to get to me. I find myself missing him all the more because I slip into normality, and forget he's not here. Then I catch myself and remember, and it hurts. The familiar routines become suddenly empty. I realise it is because we had arrived at the thing so many think and believe they want: he was my 'other half'. As I have said, it's not that we shared every thought, it's not that we didn't keep some things private from each other. It's not even as if we were always in perfect accord — far from it. But we were necessary to each other. And now — well I guess it's a bit like the time I went off to Texas for five weeks and left him behind on his own. Except now he's the one who's gone off. I know he is busy and full of energy. That makes me feel even a bit resentful in my worst moments. Selfish of me — because I do not wish to join him yet. I am just grudging him whatever takes him away from me, from here. Selfish and childish; I am being a petulant child. Of course I don't really want him back to suffer and struggle. He tried so hard!
But when Freya lies down with me in bed and looks for him, and purrs — but never as loudly as she did when he was here, and stretches out — but never with such complete, trusting abandonment as when he was here, I become sad.
Wonderful post, Rosemary. You've showed that there are more emotions to loss than just grief.
ReplyDeleteThe fact that you write about it so honestly, opening up to anyone who might read this, is amazing. And you are amazing. Keep on keeping on and writing it out. I wish you an ever-growing peace, and send positive energy your way.
Thank you! I was going to record this in my (strictly private) personal journal, but then decided it should be part of the record here. Your response makes me glad I did. :)
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