I’m currently laying in my bed, trying to form thoughts out of things that are swirling. In 17 days, Chris and I should have been celebrating our one year anniversary. Instead I’m going to a concert with friends. Here’s a secret – I want to bail already.
When i planned this I didn’t expect April to hit like a ton of bricks. However, it did. Actually March 30 hit with a panic and coming to the apartment and telling Perry we had to leave. Now. Go anywhere. I just needed out. So we went to see my best friend, then to see my dad. And all was well. Until today.
Today I had to pull into a parking lot driving home from work because it hit. Hard. The missing his voice and his smile. The wanting to hear him laugh. Wanting to hug him. I want him to call me his ‘silly girl’ and laugh with me. But he isn’t here. Be won’t be coming back and sometimes that is still so freaking hard to accept
So I’m here, in bed, covered under a mountain of sheets. There are dishes in the sink and the litter box needs to be cleaned. Trash needs to be taken out. I still need to unpack. But I am tired. And sad. And this needs to be said because there are many whom think I am ‘so put together’ or ‘moving on’ and I’m.. so so not.
I push forward because I know it’s what he would want. I have found love again, but it is different. I try to keep being strong but sometimes we all break. No matter how well we seem to be doing.
So no, I’m not okay. I really stand by I don’t know if I ever will be again. But I’ll keep trying. I owe it to my heart, my spirit, to keep going. To be the person Chris saw in me.
Please don’t forget about this day. I know that many aren’t sure how to handle it. Because he’s gone. But please don’t forget. Please feel free to wish me, us, a happy anniversary.
If he were here with me physically right now, we’d be planning. We’d probably make a trip to the Hill Country of Texas or maybe Austin. We’d find some quirky place to eat and just enjoy each other’s company. Instead, I am spending the day with my closest friends and trying to enjoy.
I’m struggling. Hard. Life keeps changing and it’s hard to keep up. I’ve hit some sort of depression amplified by this looming date. I am humbled by the people who are in my life and give me hope.
Please don’t forget us. Me. Help me remember the happy.
Is the fear of my own death. I mean, it’s always been there. I joked with a friend that I could tell I’m becoming happy again because I worry about dying. However, today proved to be a whole different level.
I cried. Hard. I don’t wish this life on anyone. This living without the person you chose to be with dying so suddenly. I became sad, sitting there praying that I don’t leave my family or Perry (there! Have his *real* name).
That sadness entertained with a fear that Perry would pass on. That something catastrophic would happen and I wouldn’t be able to get there. Have I mentioned this is currently a LDR? Because it is. So that has its own set of my worries.
Grief is such this big messed up roller coaster. I’ve lived through my worst nightmare and the aftershocks take me to the ground sometimes. Today was one of those unexpected moments.
Chris always said death came in 3s. So when he died, I was sort of waiting for the other foot to drop. Well, the other 2. And the first one was my Mamaw, 20 days following Chris.
He passed on her birthday. One of my clearest memories from that day is sitting in the hospital room at 8 am and Chris excitedly going ‘we need to call your Mamaw!’ When Chris passed, I told Mamaw I’d be back to take care of her now but I never saw her again.
In some ways, I haven’t grieved Mamaw. I mean I have. I miss her. Every time I go to her house I miss the biscuits and gravy and our talks. But her and Chris died so close together my mind and heart was still in shock.
Valentines Day was rough emotionally. Amusingly, not because of Chris being gone but because of Mamaw being gone. Her and my Papaw (who passed in 2015) always went me something. My aunt did as well. It was like a group effort. And this was the first year I didn’t get anything from them.
One of my favorite Valentines memories is when an ex didn’t show up for dinner as promised. I called my Papaw crying, and he called and gathered my family for an hour drive to my college, at 8 o’clock, so I wouldn’t be alone. Mamaw held my hand.
It’s all little things. I know my Mamaw is with my Papaw and that helps. My heart just aches sometimes. I miss my people.
Chris used to come home from Wing Tsun and have me run to hug him, telling him all about what happened. There were many times my anxious mind would cry, like when Shepard died. I’d sit there begging God not to take Chris and have that voice tell me he wouldn’t be. That I deserved to be happy and that Chris and I would have years together. Except we didn’t.
So I’m sitting here, on Peru’s bed, crying. A mixture of someone seizing because of course they do and praying that I don’t loose Peru as well.
And this is what people mean when they say it takes strength after loss. It takes courage. Because I am painfully aware that everything could be fine and 5 minutes later he be gone. That this man, who came in out of nowhere knowing the broken that I was, knowing how much I love Chris but still wants to protect me and keep me warm and make me laugh and have me talk about Chris, could no longer walk this earth. And it is terrifying if I let myself think on it too long.
I think in many ways this post is the most private. I do a pretty good job of ‘being okay.’ But there are moments I’m not. There are moment’s Chris’s death is still as raw as it was July 14, 2017. I have been changed in so many ways. I am stronger. I’ve learned to take risks because the next moment isn’t guaranteed. But I am changed. For better or for worse.
I listen to music. A lot of music. I have playlists upon playlists of songs. If I’m in the car or in the shower, music is playing.
The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus has been a favorite. Especially with their song ‘Facedown.’ I was in a really abusive relationship at one point in my life. So, that became my anthem and I stared to follow them. On a separate album, there’s this song, ‘Pleads and Postcards’, that I’ve listened to at least a dozen times since Chris passed. However, yesterday I actually listened to it. I thought I had, but the last verses yesterday peaked my interest.
But if I should fall
Then you should move on
All eyes watch out for you from up above
Now don’t take this wrong
But you should move on
All eyes watch over you from up above
From the beginning of this new relationship, Ive reached out to friends and ‘talked’ to Chris. I accepted that this was good. That this was right because it feels so natural. However, with the last week and struggling with my worth to a degree, it was nice to have this reminder in the form of lyrics I’ve heard just stating to make sense.
So a short post. I am alive. I am happy. Our anniversary is just over 2 months away. That will be the next milestone to see how it goes. Looking forward to the signs and life.
Also. Picture of diamond eyes since I haven’t in a bit 🙂
Four years ago I was venturing around San Antonio, falling in love with the city. January 29, 2014 was the first time I met Chris ‘in person’ and the main thing I remember from that day was my brain stopping. I looked for him in this sea of faces and saw him. He reached out and took me in this huge bear hug and I thought ‘oh, so this is what it feels like to not have anxiety or depression.’
I didn’t know that day, or even the next year or so, how important he would become to me. I didn’t know that he would enter my life in such a grand fashion and leave so suddenly. I often made the comment that he felt like a dream. Even moreso after his passing. He doesn’t seem real. We were together such a short amount of time.
I am thankful for this person that I have found. Last Thursday was rough. At one point I got so angry because things happened that wouldn’t had if Chris were here. I wouldn’t be in this area. But he’s gone, and about second tears star falling, Peru calls me and I’m not alone. It’s things like that which help me realize this is okay. It is okay if I feel ready. It’s okay to be where I am.
In 2013 I was in this state and never expected to leave. Things were happening with my family that made it seem impossible. By 2015, I had lived in SA for 9 months. I got out. And I will get out again. Life changes.
2018 doesn’t look nearly like I thought it would even in 2017. Time changes everything. Maybe that’s okay.