Month: March 2013

To end the day’s blogging on a somewhat less depressing note, I’ll add that after work (which was depressing as hell despite everyone being glad to see me back and being very nice to me) I met Amy for dinner.  Even though there really isn’t anything you can say that’s going to make me feel better (seriously, I’ve already thought of most of the positive things in this situation and they aren’t really helping my mood yet), it does feel good when people express their love for me in outward manifestations.  Such as wanting to have dinner with me.  The hard part is making myself actually GO to dinner, in this example (this has always been a struggle).  It’s easier for me to lye around feeling sorry for myself, but THAT doesn’t make me feel better – at least not yet.

I’m alone at home right now.  I’ll probably be sleeping here by myself tonight too.  It will be the first time since Matt died, but it’s something that I’ve had to do many nights over this last year.  I don’t know if all of that helped emotionally prepare me for any of this, but I can tell that it at least helped prepare me mentally.  But yeah, that’s certainly no consolation right now.  Just an observation I guess.

And I’ll close with this picture of Matt’s amazing hair.

At “home” which is just a lonely, empty house (except for the cats). I have loved this house so much, but everything is so completely wrong without Matt. I had to sit here for 5 minutes saying over and over, “He’s never coming back” pretty much immediately after walking in the door. When they say you have to take this an hour at a time, they’re not kidding. I go from sobbing to feeling like cleaning up to zoning out in front of the TV to wanting to draw back to sobbing. It’s very unstable and I hate it. But … it is what it is. I can’t do anything else about it.

Right now I’m lying on the couch with the TV and cats making background noise. Bitey wants to go outside. I should be taking a nap instead of writing this since we left at 9 last night and drove all night.

And this is what is directly in front of me. I almost want to take them down. Did you guys like these btw?

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This time two weeks ago, Matt had gotten home from going to lend his friend some DVDs and we were in bed watching Hamlet. Everything was so normal.

Most of today had been ok. By “ok,” I mean that I’ve felt slightly hopeful about my future but I’ve also been distracted by the beach and reading and crocheting and people.

Right now though, the hope has faded into faith that I’ll be ok. I miss Matt so much. I never wanted to be with anyone else – Matt was the only one. Still is for that matter, which is so much in conflict with my yearning for the love which so abruptly disappeared from my life and my knowledge that Matt’s ashes are sitting in my kitchen. Matt will never love me again. I will have to find someone else – which I can’t bear thinking about but is also constantly on my mind.

I keep telling myself that I have to learn to take care of myself and love myself more – which is definitely what matt wanted me to do. Still, that can’t make up for the emptiness I feel going to bed or getting up in the morning. Or any other time that my attention is not diverted. I have always enjoyed my own company and being alone, but I think a big part of that was simply that I didn’t realize how amazing it is to be in love. When that love is snatched out from under your feet, to say that it’s destabilizing is just trite. For that matter, most of the things you can say about it are trite. Sitting out here crying is not enough either. Nothing I know how to do is enough.

Standing at the beach. Thinking that time heals all wounds, unless they’re too big and you die. I guess the latter happened to Matt. I don’t think I’m going to die though, which makes my chances of healing from all of this pretty good. I have to keep reminding myself of this.

I’m so scared that I’ll never find anyone who makes me as happy as Matt did.

Matt’s been dead over a week now. It seems like the time has been passing sooooo slowly, but on the other hand it feels like forever since things were normal. Over a week since our last dinner together, our last shower together, our last game of cribbage. I wish I had been able to do more for him. I know I did SO MUCH but I can’t keep at bay the voices telling me that I should have done more.

It’s so hard when the ONLY thing you want is the only thing you can never have. I am just finding it almost impossible to care about anything else – how I look, eating, cleaning, doing anything at all. I know other people have other stuff going on in their lives now and I think maybe I should ask them about things, but I just can’t summon the strength and will to care. I’m sure this won’t last forever. Just like I knew my life with Matt wouldn’t last forever. I always wanted to be the first one to die, but I honestly don’t know that Matt would have made it without me. We had so much love. I still do.