I have never been this sad. I have never felt so disappointed with life. And for the first time ever, in my whole entire existence, I actually believe that life is not fair. I never believed that before. But I get it now. I actually get it and it sucks. This is not the life I wanted. I never wanted to have this experience. I never wanted to live without Dave. I never wanted to have to go through any of this. But here I find myself – in the midst of a process – on some life altering, world changing, self-something-or-other experience that I would never wish on anyone. And through all of it, the worst part, is Dave isn’t here to help me get through it. Dave isn’t here! Life isn’t fair. I get that now. I hate it. I hate that Dave is dead. I hate that I have to live without him. I hate that I can’t talk with him. I hate that he can’t hold me. I hate that this world is so brutal. I hate that I can feel such hurt and emptiness. I’m afraid of tomorrow. I’m afraid my life will never be good again. I’m afraid the best has come to pass and I will live far too many years, only longing and waiting to join Dave.
Yesterday I met Dave’s dad and step-mom. They imparted to me a fifth of Dave’s cremains so that I may give him the ash-dive he wished to have. I can’t imagine what it must be like for them. I can’t even imagine how hard it would be to lose your only son. And then to have the task of dividing his ashes so those who loved him can say good-bye in their own way. I can’t imagine the strength that would take, but I know it would be a task of love – far greater love than I’m sure many will ever have to prove. I am so grateful for them. I’m so grateful that they are strong and could do this. I don’t think I would have had the strength. But many of us never know how strong we are until we have no choice but to be.
I have thought of doing the jump in September. But after yesterday I realized I probably won’t be ready. I am no where near ready to let him go yet. And I know Dave may be upset by that. I know he would want me to get up there and jump and have fun and party and get on with life. I know he would want me to not mourn him but celebrate him. I know. But I’m far too injured right now to function. Most days I’m on auto-pilot trying to carry on with the normalcies of everyday. But I’m not there. The world has changed too much too quickly. I can’t celebrate that the world is not fair. I can’t party or jump. I can’t even let myself have fun. There’s an emptiness I’m trying to cope with. There’s an emptiness that will always be there and it hurts more than I can truly define. I am lonely. My heart has been attacked by the most powerful force in this world and it is exhausted. It is injured. It is maimed and bleeding and is gasping for breath. I need time. Dave will get his ash-dive.
For now all the little bits of love all pale in comparison to that big love, though I’m sure one day they will be greatly needed. For now, however, I just need to cry for Dave. I’m not ready to let go. I don’t know if I ever will be. Dave is my biggest love. I know that I was his. I just really hoped I’d have him forever. But life isn’t fair. And I hate that I had to learn that. Dave was one of the good ones. He was special. He was alive. He lived. He was in love with me and I will always miss him. I will always long for his touch.