that old life


The sadness in me finds me often when I’m enjoying life. Today I cooked a turkey for my very first time and then you pop into my head, and suddenly I can’t catch my breath. I miss you. I want to tell you a million times over how much I miss you. Why did you have to go, Dave? Why did you leave me here all alone, lost amid unanswered questions – wondering why we didn’t get a chance? I see those emails, I remember you as alive and funny, cheeky and strong, sincere and hopeful. I remember your touch, your squirm, your eyes, your love. But then I cry, Dave. I miss the love. I miss being in love with you. But mostly I miss your love. Your love changed me. It made me smile bigger. It made me happy to be alive. I’m not always smiling to be alive these days, Dave. But I’m still changed by your love. It’s just more painful to be alive now.

I’m still puzzled by your absence. Reality changed so quickly, and while I am adjusting, it is not by choice, nor is it welcome. Reality, this life, it’s alien and foreign to me most of the time. I try to exist in it. I function. But it doesn’t feel right. Something’s wrong.

I thought the day you left this existence was the worst day of my life, but it was only the beginning of bad days. Margo said she hoped one day we would come to see it as the beginning of my new life, and I guess it is. I just haven’t figured out what that new life will be.

I still have a hard time comprehending that my boyfriend died – the man I was going to marry died – the man I was madly in love with died – the most amazing man I ever met in my life died. Dave, you died. Reality sucks.

On bad days I catch myself thinking of your last moments. Or I find myself wondering what you are doing where ever you may be. Or I even wonder what you would be doing. And then I cry. I hate thinking about how you died, but I can’t help it.

I had never looked forward to life more. You promised me you would get on that plane. You promised, Dave. And then you went and got yourself killed. That life often feels like a dream. That old reality I can never go back to. I miss that life. How can I ever look forward to life again?

Advertisements

About humanbeen

I'm a has-been that was. I'm a dreamer that does.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s