It’s 10.15pm. I am alone. Katie & Kyle & Tavis & Adam are doing their own thing. Luke & Andrew are sleeping.
This is where I’d normally be watching a movie with him. Playing cards with him. Being intimate. Being part of a couple.
Instead, the TV is on, I don’t like solitaire, and I’m playing on the interwebz.
I miss him.
I miss his presence.
I miss his laugh.
I miss his warmth.
I miss the sound of his heartbeat.
After his heart attacks, I could lay with my head against his chest for a long time, just listening to his hear beat. After he got sick, I would do the same.
Just listening to him breathe.
And now that’s gone.
There’s an emptiness here.
I can fill it, occasionally, with activities such as derby, having company over, or craft night.
But in the end I’m alone. I’m lonely. I miss HIM.
Every once in a while, I hear some story that’s supposed to tug at the heart strings about how this person got this sick and was in the hospital for this long and finally pulled through… and all I can think is FUCK YOU YOU SURVIVED.
Because he didn’t. And I’m angry that I have to be alone when they still get the opportunity to be with the one they love.
I wouldn’t want them to have died… but it’s not fair that Mark did.
I miss him.