Friday the 13th

Arbitrary (though accurate) subject as do not care one bit whether it’s Friday the 13th or 12th or 14th.

I woke up this morning oh so comfortably; I went to bed on time last night and got plenty of sleep, and got up one snooze before I normally do. (Is a “snooze” an amount of time? In this case, it’s 9 minutes.) I was dreaming about Matt when I woke up, but it was a really odd dream. For some reason, we were hanging out with our friend Dawn; Matt had gone to put on warmer clothes or something, and when he got back I got on top of him and held his face in my hands and asked him why he left me. All I remember is Dawn saying that she would have let him instead of trying to keep him alive and miserable here, and then I think I got up and punched her in the face. (Dawn, I doubt you’re reading this, but if you are rest assured that I don’t really want to punch you in the face at all.)

It was a better dream than the ones I usually have about Matt, because I knew while I was dreaming that he was dead.

The drive to work this morning was gorgeous – beautiful weather, lovely temperature, and it’s starting to feel like fall. I wonder if every good thing (like fall) will be bittersweet for the rest of my life, because I will always regret that Matt isn’t here to share it with me. That’s how it is now.

Guys, I’m not whole. I’m telling this to myself though, because it’s easy to get distracted and have a few good weeks and then remember that I’m still broken. Someone shared a quote with me (they weren’t sure who said it) – “Face what I feel now, and what I felt before but didn’t have the resources to feel.” Progress. I’m making it. Slowly.

I AM making progress. I got a new phone recently and had to figure out how to save all my voicemail from my old phone – including several from Matt which I hadn’t listened to in a long time but never want to delete. I didn’t listen to all of them when I was transferring them to the computer, but I did hear several. Of course, I can still hear Matt’s voice in my head if I try – which I don’t, because it always makes me cry. So I was pleased that I was able to deal with hearing the voice messages again. Of course they made me cry, but I did it anyway.

There’s so much of Matt all over my house. I went into the library to play my guitar a little yesterday but didn’t even pick it up because I was too distracted/overwhelmed by Matt. I lost so, so much when he died. I didn’t lose my future, but I lost the only future that I wanted – one with him.

But then I was listening to NPR this morning and they were interviewing some Syrian refugees, and the refugees were talking about how they can’t go home – they have no home left because their villages have been bombed. And that made me remember that I am SO privileged. I’ve lost my husband and my most preferred future, but I still have my house, my cats, my job, my family, my friends. I don’t want to downplay my loss(es), but honestly, just remembering that these Syrian refugees are PEOPLE just like I and everyone I know are, living with the same desires that we are, I feel so thankful for what I do have.

Anyway. Enough blogging.

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I'm a young, childless widow who is trying to figure out the best way to deal with the world in light of my late husband's suicide. It's harder than I ever imagined it would be, but somehow at the same time I am still alive and even happy sometimes.

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