I have never been all that open with my emotions. In fact, we used to talk about how you were the only one that was able to get to that part of me. I could cry, scream, yell, laugh with you. I could be open and vulnerable. I could share my most private thoughts with you. And yet, until you died I wasn't aware that I could cry this much. That I could cry so often. I cry when debt collectors call about your student loans. I cry when friends and family ask me how I am doing. I cried when I went to social security and they asked for your death certificate. I cried again when I realized that the last time that I had been in that building was when I was changing my name from WHITE to KEENER. And most of all, when I have to tell a new person that you have died, my heart stops beating briefly. I feel like I am suffocating and feel like someone has stabbed me straight through the stomach. I don't like that feeling and it hurts and because I do not like that feeling and I do not like the immense pain that feeling causes, I cry.
My meltdowns aren't pretty. In fact, sometimes they are downright ugly. I say nasty things that I never would have even thought prior to losing you. I sob and feel nauseous. I get angry with God and I beg for you to come home. I cried a lot in the first week, I hyperventilated when I saw your dad the night you died, but my first meltdown in which I saw an ugly side of myself happened the day of your funeral. I saw a homeless man walking down the street, I looked at my friends and asked why it couldn't have been him. I said that no one would miss him and even if they did miss him, they already did so it wouldn't have made a difference. I said, we shouldn't have to miss you, it wasn't fair and went on to say that I also didn't think that it was fair that people who hate their spouse, fight and yell, and say cruel things and don't even really want to be with them still get to keep them and I wanted nothing more than to grow old and make memories with you, I had a planned future and dreams I was looking forward to with you and I didn't get to keep you. It isn't fair. We shouldn't have to miss you. You were young, we had so many more years that we should have had with you. Our kids shouldn't have been robbed of you. It's during my meltdowns that I get angry. So angry, but never with you. Never with you, but with God and with my circumstances and with the bullshit of free will. I get angry with myself, that I didn't save you, that I couldn't save you. That I couldn't love you enough to make you stay.
Since that first meltdown, I've had several others. For instance, the first time I tried to listen to Thy Will after your funeral, I got .4 seconds in before a meltdown was triggered. I had another meltdown when I not only reread all the letters and songs you had written me, but I found the place where you had kept all of the letters that I had written you. I think that was partially because I hadn't realized you had saved them all. I went through all of your shirts, cue meltdown. I saw the wine we were meant to share on our anniversary, another meltdown. Sometimes simply looking at our children is enough to make me breakdown. I never know what's going to trigger these and that's the worst part. They are unexpected and they shake me to my very core. I suppose it is in the moments of meltdowns that I feel human because when I am not having a meltdown, I am numb. I am so numb that everything is blurry. Everything is blurry, nothing feels real, and I am going through the motions of surviving without really knowing how I am doing it.
Despite the meltdowns, yesterday I managed to sleep peacefully for a full five hours. That's a rarity since you passed away, however I dreamed of you last night and I felt you next to me, I felt your hand in mine and even though I am sure anyone who stumbles across this letter will think me crazy, I know you were beside me. It was comforting to feel that and yet it was painful to wake up and have you still be gone. I reread so many of our texts and even though they made me sad, they also touched my heart so deeply because your words to me were so full of love. Especially one in which you explained to me that you loved our children because you loved me first. It breaks my heart that you are gone. It breaks my heart that you took your own life, but I do find a small amount of peace in the fact that I know you loved me truly and completely up until you took your last breath. I am hurting. I am broken. I am grieved. I am missing my best friend and my soulmate. And yet, despite these things I am blessed. I am blessed because I was given not only the chance to be your friend for almost twenty seven years, but I was given the chance to love and to be loved by you and to have a family with you for the best year of my life. I am lucky because you loved my son as your own and more than that, you taught him what a real man is meant to look like and I know that he will carry you with him for the rest of his life despite his age and he will be able to share you with his sister in a way that no one else can. Thank you for everything my love.
I love you. I miss you. Forever.
Always,
Jess
No comments:
Post a Comment