Tuesday, January 01, 2013

Probably Pointless

Today, a friend helped me get my car on the road.. battery replaced, inspection done, oil changed.  I need to get new tires for it soon.  I'm not going to buy the super grippy expensive tires this time.  I've also got an appointment with the therapist for tomorrow afternoon.  I'm supposed to start working in the morning.  That seems.. pointless.  I'm just going to check email I guess.

MaryBeth had been keeping herself stable by keeping busy, but the last couple days she's run into a really rough patch.  I talked to her today and we were both bawling.  Her pain is as intense as mine, in a different way.  John was more than just a brother to her.

I'm still not eating as well as I should, but my friend has been hanging out at the house and forcing me, even though I have no appetite at all.  I haven't done anything on the list for moving back to Frisco.  I don't want to.  This is John and my house.  If I go back to Frisco, I know once everything is moved, I'll never be back here again.. and this is where my strongest memories of John are.  I'll have nothing but a few possessions of his and some pictures.

Well meaning people tell me well meaning things.  I know they are worried about me and don't want me to turn into a sad hermit that's given up on the world.  As far as I'm concerned right now, the world can go fuck itself.  It's a mean and cruel place, and any happiness and peace you get from it is luck that it can rip away from you in a moment. 

I'm convinced I could have prevented this.  People tell me that I did the best I could, or there was no avoiding what happened.  I don't believe that.  I'm told that if I own what happened then I will have no chance.  If that's the price I pay, then fine.  My eldest sister has pulled herself into an impenetrable bubble over the circumstances of pain and loss in her life.  It seems a reasonable thing to do if there is no hope of having a family again. 

It's very easy for people who have husbands and wives, and kids, and a home with a bed they share with the person they love, to promise a recovery.  It's impossible to know how devastating it is to lose a family.. especially in middle age or later, unless it's happened to you.

Still, I call for a voice that might help me.. or tell me that things will be okay.  If I didn't the panic would overwhelm me.  It's as if I don't really want to give up on the world, but know that the odds of me having what so many other people have is very small.

I do know that I'm not in a unique situation.  Maybe what happens to me really is up to me.  I just know that I don't cast a wide net.  I'm very particular about the type of person appeals to me, and John was exactly it.  I hit the romance lottery, but didn't appreciate it as I should have.

Christ.. even thinking about having a partner again in my life is ludicrous.  John hasn't been gone a month.  That's an incredibly selfish thought, but my grief comes with a healthy dose of self pity.

The life.. of being with someone for decades... growing old.. giving in to time eventually, is the very best thing we can hope for.  For so many others, Paul McCartney described Eleanor Rigby.

Where do they all come from?  I know now.

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