This still hurts so much, babe. Not just the damage done from losing you, but the collateral damage, as well. The complete rearrangement of the people in my life. I am very grateful to have people who are still there for me, through all of this- it’s just difficult not to focus on those of our friends who walked away. I don’t feel like I can trust anyone. Not after I trusted you…. Never expect anything from anyone, and you’ll never be disappointed. Even if they set the expectation, themselves. The only person you can count on 100% is yourself, and you have to be your own advocate. No one’s coming.
I find that kind of thinking empowering, albeit lonesome.
I can’t bring myself to take you off our phone plan. Your phone is a piece of you that I don’t want to let go of, and if it can’t get texts, anymore, it will make your absence more finite than I can handle. I just want to trick my subconscious into thinking you’re still here, somewhere.
I haven’t had a dream in months, babe. At least, not one I can remember. I am starting to feel like for a fleeting second, I remember something I was dreaming about, but the trace of that thought goes away in an instant. This morning, that fleeting second was filled with you. A shadow of a memory of seeing you in my mind’s eye. Which is fitting, since I can never actually catch up with you in the dreams I have had of you, anyway.
I also haven’t been able to remember almost any of our life together from the entire last year leading up to the day you died. I think it must be a shock thing, some sort of coping mechanism. I try not to think about it too much, because it can be very unsettling for me to remember that I can’t remember, and so I quickly jump to something else, hoping the next time I think about it will be the time that it comes back.
I went to a Halloween party, last night, babe. It was really the first social event ive been to with that many people since you left. I did a good job, too. I went in that giraffe onesie i used to wear all the time in vet school and i liked that the hood was big enough where I could put it up and feel a little more hidden from everything, a little more secure. During conversations I would have flashbacks of you, but got back on track pretty quickly, each time. I didn’t feel like talking but I talked. There was a lot of dancing which I tried to avoid- do you remember when i would dance in my seat while we drove to work, every morning?
A lot of my flashbacks, lately, have been of you body- not that I ever saw it, but I think that’s part of the problem. They wouldn’t let me see you, and so now my imagination just creates a new flashback of what you must have looked like, every time. How do I know if what I can imagine is worse or better than what you actually looked like? It’s every time I close my eyes, these last couple of days. You had such a handsome face, Peter.
I’ve been struggling with the pointlessness of life, lately. Not in the “we are all just little specs in a big universe” sort of way but in the way that you can spend years of your life investing your time and energy and heart into something (or someone) and structure your entire reality around that investment, just for it to be gone, just like that. Just for it to be taken away from you. Just for them to walk out the door. The risk is too great to keep doing that.
Hugo’s MMM test came back negative, babe. Now they want to do a biopsy. I feel like his symptoms are getting worse so im tempted to do it, otherwise we will have to start steroids, which I don’t really want to do, at any point. He’s already difficult enough to manage. He’s being cute right now, though. I hope you can see how cute he’s being, sleeping next to me, wherever and whatever you are.
I think of you constantly, babe. What you would say to this, or how you would react to that. Conversations we had or memories we shared. The night you left and being under the bridge. Trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong…why did this have to happen?
I still blame myself for losing you, to varying degrees. I put a reminder on my phone that repeats every morning, saying your death had nothing to do with me. And maybe it didnt, but maybe it did…who among us can answer that? No one, because you are not among us, any longer. I sometimes think that my perception of reality at the time of your death was altered because I was in shock, and so maybe when I felt the most like I did this to you, I wasn’t thinking rationally and so it’s reasonable for me to now feel like I didnt do this to you. But the thing I can’t get over is worrying that as time goes on, and the series of events leading up to your death gets foggier in my mind, whether I am simply remembering the good over the bad? Not that every couple doesnt have their share of problems but that im romanticizing things that would keep me from rightfully placing responsibility with myself when that is where it should be.
I dont know. I don’t trust my own logic.
I listen to that voicemail you left me that just says “Hey, I love you.” over and over again. I keep asking you for a sign…if youre sending some, please be more conspicuous, even though subtle was always more your strong suit…
I love you, I miss you. Hugo does, too.