Everyday without you

Each day gets harder instead of easier without "The Other". Each day seems more unbearable. Every moment more painful than the last. Friday night I hurt so bad I couldn't take it. I took two pain killers and washed them down with vodka, then I went out drinking with a friend. I wanted to kill each and every ounce of pain. I wanted to be awash in alcohol so intense there was nothing else.

I accomplished my goal of getting so drunk I couldn't stand up by the time they got me home, but it didn't take away the pain. Nothing takes away the pain. Nothing takes away the not talking to him, the not feeling him. The desperate longing, nothing takes away all the memories that are so tender and sweet that it hurts more than remembering the arguments. Nothing assuages my guilt for not being there enough. Nothing helps the pain, mind altering substances barely even dull it momentarily.

I know life needs to go on. There is stuff to accomplish, work to be done, live people to have relationships with. But I don't want it to go on. I don't want know how to keep going. I don't want any of it without him. Everyday it hurts more. Everyday is harder than the last.

It's not any easier yet

"The One" has been so supportive for me this last week. He's manned the store even tho he is tired and wants nothing more than a night at home. He's held me at night, watched my pain and still loved me. He's been the only thing getting me through all this.

I had a disappointing appointment today. The doctor told me things I suspected but didn't want to hear. As usual I ran to "The Other" to share my pain and let him comfort me, but this time it was at his grave. Standing there beside his still fresh grave with the wilting flowers from his funeral taunting my fresh pain, I told him everything. It must have helped. It wasn't his big hug and comforting words. It wasn't his hand holding mine. It wasn't his eyes whispering his love. It wasn't his lips kissing away my sorrow. But somehow I think it helped anyway.

"The One" has been talking online with a lady for a while now. He and I went down and met her and her children and she's come up and joined some of our activities. She's a neat lady, does lots of cool things, but doesn't like herself yet. She comes with baggage, baggage that makes me a little nervous. But still there's a potential when she makes herself whole, and I learn to live without "The other".

The Vows

Having "The Other" pass away hasn't gotten any easier although it's almost been a week now. I feel I should write thing that I want to remember.

On may 19th at 10:03pm I proposed to "The Other". I'd had the ring in my purse for a very long time sitting in the little inner zippered pocket with my over the counter medications. I kept waiting for just the perfect moment to make it special and memorable. I was in the hospital visiting him, fingering the ring, the moment seemed almost perfect, then his nurse walked in. and I chickened out completely. As I left him that night I texted a friend and told her. She told me to stop being a pussy.

I ended up texting "The Other" several times and then finally asked him over his phone. He replied "I'd be honored" It was another several weeks before I'd slip the ring into his hand and tell him while looking deep into his eyes and whispering I loved him. I'm not sure if I needed to say anything, the connection between our eyes at that moment was so intense, it said everything about our feelings.

At his viewing Tuesday night, I waited until nearly everyone had left and I had a moment alone with him. I just looked at him for a while. He was so handsome laying there. I told him my vows. I promised him my love for all eternity. Told him that even though I'll spend this life with "My One" that I wanted to spend all of eternity with him. After I'd said what I needed to say I left him my ring. I slid it under his hands. I feel very much like we'll be united for eternity and like he's always wanted, we'll watch the end of it all together.

It's not the way we'd planned, but somehow it's enough.

My Other

My Other passed away this morning. It was a shock I was entirely unprepared for. Yesterday evening he was doing well and told me he'd see me today. This morning I woke up to a phone call from his sister telling me he was dead.

I spent the day with his family, in between crying we picked music for his funeral, picked his burial clothes, hacked into his email, and felt horrible intense pain the likes of which hell has nothing to compare.

Every time I close my eyes I see him as I saw him last. He has this little smirk and mouthes "I love you" to me. It's pure torture in it's mix of pleasure and pain. I love him. I love him so much.

I'll never see that little smirk again. I'll never feel his mustache's tickle as we kiss, I'll never talk to him online for hours, I'll never hear his sweet singing, or his strong voice in my ear as his arms wrap around me telling me it's all going to be ok. I'll never snuggle next to him for a movie. I'll never play video games at night with him. I'll never see that look of pure love in his eyes. I'll never have any of it again.

The Other was going to live forever. It seems wrong that time, space and existence didn't end when he died. None of it's supposed to exist without him. I don't know how my world didn't collapse.