I go through a lot of motions without thought or feeling. My passion for experience and life is at an all-time low. I actually don’t think I have any passion right now, which kind of stuns me. I have no zest. No elan. No joie de vivre. It’s weird. I feel like a stranger in my own head.
A lot of the time when I think of Dave I feel like I don’t know him. It feels like he was this person I knew a long time ago. But it’s as though we were never close and I never knew him. I don’t know why that is. I wonder if it’s a self-preservation tactic, like some part of my brain trying to protect me. Because I know it kills me to think about how much he loved me, so maybe it’s easier for me right now to imagine him as someone else. Or maybe it’s just too painful to imagine him as existing. I mean, to realize that I met the man I wanted to marry, the man I gave my heart to, the man who gave me his heart – and then the universe just took him away – it’s so painful to know I had that love and lost it. I mean, love is the lifelong quest. It’s the point. And then life is just so cruel.
Some of my friends have told me I’m doing OK. I have no real clue. I just keep forcing myself to try and take those steps forward, but I really do just want to stay where I am. I want to go back in time too. It’s just that I can’t really remember my old life. I can’t really remember the happiness. I remember it was light, not heavy. I remember I felt alive, not numb. But I can’t think about how happy Dave made me. It kills me. With just a word he could make me smile. With just a look, or just a touch. It just kills me now. But it all seems like someone else’s life, in a world long ago. That reality doesn’t exist anymore, not here, not in my head. And it puzzles me. I liked that girl. I liked her life. I loved her life. But now – now it’s just a dream I had a long time ago – before all of this, in another existence, on some other plane. Loss is confusing. Sometimes I feel like I have no right to grieve for Dave. Other times I feel like I may have been the only one who really understood him towards the end of his days. Then images of him pop through my head and I cry – and then he’s a stranger again. I don’t know if I’m doing OK. I just wish Dave would come home.
I don’t picture what our life would be like had he not died. I have tried a couple of times, but it’s just torture. So much is different now. I am so different. I was finally looking forward to my future. I was looking forward to having a kick-ass summer. And now, I know this already is the worst summer of my life.
I miss being important to someone. I miss knowing that I mattered so much to him. I miss that he was happy that I existed. I miss all of that. But I miss his smile. I miss his touch. I miss his smell and his noises and all of him. The world lost a great man. I miss him. I lost my great man. And then sometimes he’s a stranger to me.