Changes

There have been big changes in my life recently.

I’ve got a new Love, he’s amazing, he’s incredible, we’re perfect on so many levels its scary.

He brings joy to my life.

I slow him down, he speeds me up, we complement and balance each other well.

Today… he moved in.  Fully. Completely.  All his stuff here.  And he’s here.

There’s a light sabre in my house.

A storm trooper helmet.

A whole lotta New England Patriots swag.

Clothes and stuff that aren’t mine.

It… feels weird and awesome at the same time.  Very much a “hey this is it. we’re TOGETHER” moment walking in the door and seeing his stuff.

Before, there was a transience to the relationship.  He was here, but essentially living out of a suitcase.  He was wearing the same clothes for 4 months.

It felt… however much we talked about a future, that there was an option to go back.

Now there’s not.

He’s here.  And I have a future with him.

He loves me, I love him, and he respects and honours the love I have for Mark.

I am amazed at how my life has changed…

 

Is it Okay?

Is it okay to have moments, hours, days where I am so incredibly happy that I don’t think about him?

Is it okay to enjoy my life so very much that I don’t have a moment of breathlessness because he’s not here to share it with?

Is it okay to have things in my life happen that I DON’T want to share with him?

Is it okay to miss him, but be okay with him not being here?

A year or two ago, someone dear to me asked me “Why are you grieving so hard?” and I was flabbergasted that he would even consider asking me that.  After all, I lost the love of my life!  I had everything I knew turned upside down!

Today, I ask myself, “Why are you not grieving as hard?” Does this mean I didn’t love him as much as I thought I did? Does it mean that I don’t miss him as much as I said I did?

How could I spend a day, being ridiculously happy, and not want to share it with him?  How could I have moments that don’t belong to him?

The guilt, that I should have a life that I don’t want him included in all the parts, it confuses me.

How could I not want him included in all the parts of my life? How could I have pieces of me that I want just for me?

I don’t understand it.

But I’m pretty fucking happy, even if the happy is tinged with guilt.  And the only thing I want to share with him is that I AM happy.

I didn’t die with him.

A piece of me did, but that piece?  The part that is growing back?  That’s mine.

This is becoming more and more real for me.  It happened.  It was beautiful. It was amazing.  It was painful and awful at times.  We weren’t perfect but we were perfectly imperfect for each other. And I’m getting to the point where I can smile… because it happened.