Tag: communication

From 29 august, 2021

I was going to memorialize Gary’s Facebook page on the 4th anniversary of his death.
I needed to do it today, instead. I have been reading and understanding a lot more about depression, my own and that of others. I can’t wait to do this anymore. I need to move forward in an appreciable way.

(this newest relationship has actually been since October 14th of last year; this relationship has allowed me to cultivate the strength to do this todayšŸ’œšŸ’œ)

Additionally, I would rather it say “in open relationships” because I am in open relationships. Come on, facebook, open up to polyamory. You allow my relationship status to say “in an open relationship”, but not give the option for multiple, for polyamory. I am #polyamorous, it is not a lifestyle it is my nature, it is who I am.

So I fixed it-ish, made the first shot here my cover photo.

8:18a 12th june, 2020

I don’t know, how I don’t know how it got to be a thousand days since you’ve died.

A thousand four days. How?

I don’t know, I don’t know how that happened.
But I know that I’ve missed you every fucking day. And I justā€¦ it’s only and already two years and nine months tomorrow and I just keep talking to you, I just keep talking to you. I keep talking to you because I don’t know how else to, not.

We always talked. About everything. We did that really well, talking. Sometimes not so nice. But we always talked.

So now what, do I just ask questions at the air? Do I just keep doing what I’ve been doing and uh, keep talking to you this way, writing, andā€¦

I found pictures of you.
Well, Brian found them in the attic. I’ve never seen these pictures of you before. There’s a really hot one.

I miss you.
Every goddamn day.

Love you more.

Gary, age 20. 1990. Killer smile, wink, and dimple šŸ˜šŸ˜šŸ˜

10:21a 28 october, 2019 (10:53p 14 november, 2019)

intellectually i think i can wrap my head around it but my heart
my heart feels left.
i know heā€™s not leaving me
i know heā€™ll be back
but i do not know this protocol
can i not even communicate?
(not anywhere near, no)
i donā€™t know that i can do this
(yet i am,)
communication is so much a part of us
of who we are
and how can i just shut that off?
(i canā€™t. it appears he can.)
i know that my illness is tempering this.
amplifying this.
(yet without communication,
without the comfort that i had not yet reached in our relationship,
there is no solid ground on which my shaky legs can stand)
(i cannot ask)(yet i have asked and asked my friends and they donā€™t know either.
there is no way to know)
(and i see that i used ā€œusā€
i see that i used ā€œweā€.
i donā€™t feel that comfort now, those words are lies.)
my brain lies to me.
hates me, often.
less so lately, but still.
breathe in, and out.
get some sunshine on my face.
(harder still, now)
fix my makeup.
(again)
go to work.
(go to work)

9:16a, 14 november, 2019.

okay so you know when i wrote to you and said,

“now that Iā€™m on the other side of your being away,
I mean, youā€™ve been gone longer than whatā€™s left,
itā€™s feeling easier.
Iā€™m excited for your return, but not in a desperate way any more.
It doesnā€™t feel so empty.
Or at least, not right now. Hope is a good thingšŸ’œšŸ’œ”

remember?
and then the next day
and the day after, now

nothing.

and now it feels desperate again.

I have none of the answers, Iā€™m just guessing at them
i donā€™t even know what the questions are anymore.

It is the silence that I cannot bear.

Love is. 10:40a, 13 September, 2019.

Today I know how much I am loved. I have no doubt. I will never ever not know. I know what it feels like to be loved, and seen, and heard. I know what it feels like to be understood.

My evolution is ongoing. The path I started down two years ago is ever-twisting, ever changing. Forward, ever forward.

I’d brought this little bit of printing I’d done to hang up in Gary’s hospital room. To remind him that he is loved. I brought it home, taped it to the shelf on his side of the bedroom. To remind me.

9:24a, 10 september, 2019

i donā€™t know why i thought i would be able to do this
why i thought that the anniversary of the week he died would be a good idea
to try and sort through everything in this house
our house
the weather is cooler
my brain, not so much on fire
and now that there is a bit of calm
to try to take stock, sort through
instead i look at everything from where i sit
overwhelmed
over and overwhelmed
wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed
i have done nothing. no thing. not one.

ā€œ…oh what a world, i don’t wanna leave
thereā€™s all kinds of magic, itā€™s hard to believe
thank god itā€™s not too good to be true
oh, what a world, and then there is you
plants that grow and open your mind
these are real things thank god itā€™s not too good to be true
oh, what a world, and then there is youā€¦ā€

kacey musgraves

i donā€™t wanna leave, i donā€™t.
i know he didnā€™t want to leave either and that is 
so fucking maddening and painful and
heart breaking. HEARTBREAKING.
it wasnā€™t even his heart that killed him ffs.
we didnā€™t have enough time.
we didnā€™t have nearly enough time.
we spent so much time getting through all our pain together
misunderstanding each other
getting to the point we reached three years ago.
a year before he died.
i wish (do i?) that i knew the exact day things turned
that we turned towards the sun, towards the light
like the sunflowers i used to fear
(they always turn their faces to the sun, they are good, they are pure)
i wish i knew the exact day as clearly as i remember the conversation.
the moment things turned truly good. 

i know that i have to leave this place, this house
our house.
was a very very very fine house.
with one cat in the yard.
life used to be so hard.
now it is so very hard.
nothing is easy. it never has been.

here i am, nearly two years on
i still donā€™t have any idea how to do this.
i am running out of time.

cherish the day. the moment.
the second.
the briefest speck of time.

it disappears
is snatched away
and you never get it back.

11:13a, 26 april, 2019

The promises of normalcy
Quietly withdrawn, scattered
This to me is the most disappointing of all, the most heartbreaking

I understand
I understand
I understand.

I understand the desire, I understand what you were looking for.
I understand you did not expect to find me.
I understand that I am your Muse whether you know it or not (you do know it though)
I understand the intensity, the depths of feeling
and all of the unknown unknowns that attend it.

I understand feeling out of control, tethered to something completely foreign in feel
I understand not wanting to name that, either.

The silence may be the hardest thing of all.
Especially since you promised you would never do that.

(more promises.)

I understand.

My patience may be Legion,
But my heart is always open, and there may not be room when you are ready.

Aphantasia. 7p, 11 March, 2019

I see a small cloud in the sky sort of in the shape of an anatomical heart. I so much want to ask you if you can see it too, or if you just see a slightly muddled shape. So many things I have thought of to ask you since you’ve been gone. And I can’t.

From 21 September, 2018

So this is how Gary and I discovered that he had aphantasia, and that I have hyperphantasia. If you, too, “dream blind” or at the opposite end, “cannot unsee” things, I think you’ll be interested in this and the attendant questionnaire. This article, written two years before Gary died, is what allowed us to truly begin fixing some terribly broken things in our marriage.