This weekend, my defenses have been down. I’ve been unwell, fighting off a cold which finally took me down last night.
I went with my guy (what do you call the guy who you thought was your 2nd chapter, only to break up, but are now attempting to work things out with?) 45 mins away to pick up his friend to come for the weekend.
We got there about 1/2 hour before his friend got off work, so we hung out in the store. I wandered, looking at magazines, drinking my coffee, until finally I made my way into the video rental section.
I haven’t been in a video rental section for a long time. Since before Mark died. Long before Mark died. It was how we met, working in a video store. I still have very awesome memories of going through videos… before we were officially “together” and choosing a theme for the “Manager’s Favourites” and bugging him with various movies.
So I’m standing there, picking up each dvd case, reading the back, then putting them back. And the memories washed over me. The happy, the sad, the innocent brilliance of a new relationship… and my heart hurt.
The cold I’d been fighting off started taking over.
By the time we got home, I was fully ill… and not totally in a good mood. I had put up walls and defenses.
I sat upstairs with him for a while, but then went to bed. Tried to sleep.
I hate having a cold. I hate the feeling of my whole body being heavy.
I messaged a friend of mine, told her what was going on. But I couldn’t tell him.
You see, one of the sticking points in our relationship is my widowhood. He has an issue with me crying over another man (albeit a dead one) while he’s standing there comforting me. He thinks I should be looking towards the future, that my grief and widowhood is holding me in the past. I disagree.
But I couldn’t tell him.
I probably could have stayed upstairs with him, had I not been dealing with emotions. I didn’t have it in me to split myself three ways… grief, illness, maintaining a facade of a good mood. One had to go and since the grief and the illness were beyond my control at that moment… I opted to go to my own bed, to my own room and hide where I didn’t have to pretend I was in a good mood.
This morning, I went upstairs, had a coffee, then came back to my room to sleep. I slept, I painted my bathroom, I slept some more. And I put on a movie.
OMG good movie. And at the end… I bawled. I cried, big deep sobbing tears. Painful, gut-wrenching tears. Curled up in on myself, not knowing how to stop hurting kinds of tears.
Good movie. But yeah. The end just about killed me.
And I couldn’t tell him… again.
I couldn’t share that with him. And I wanted to. But I couldn’t. I put up a wall again. Waited for after dinner, went up for our weekly “Walking Dead” date. Came downstairs… and read a blog that s
I’ve been following this blog for a while now. And tonight’s post… on Grief… spoke to me.
Because of past relationships, because of frustrating, horribly abusive relationships… I dont’ quite trust myself when it comes to how I feel.
When you’re made to believe that what you feel is wrong… over and over and over… even 20+ years later it still affects you.
So I read the blog.
And I read it again.
And I read it again.
And I realized… I have a right to my grief. I have a right to my feelings. I am functioning. I am moving forward. I am just moving forward in MY time, in MY space, at MY pace.
And I realized again… I need to learn to trust myself.
I grieve because I loved. I grieve because I lost not only my past, but also my future. Because it HURTS with all my being to wake up and realize that those dreams are NEVER COMING TRUE. And I grieve for them.
I’m looking forward to my life over the next few years – I have plans that will take me in a direction I never expected to go. And for the first time ever… I feel like I have options, like I can choose my life.
For the first time ever… I don’t feel trapped.
But I grieve. I mourn. I am sad for what I have lost. Even as I’m happy for what’s coming, I’m sad for what’s been lost.
That’s my truth.