The flashbacks are getting clearer. I’m remembering more from moments we shared and I can see him in every fine and small detail I loved. I’ve even dreamt about him, and I next to never dream about anyone who is dead. And his photos still hang by my bed, above my computer, on my visor. But even as all the reminders of the life we had, the world we envisioned, the journey we were embarking on – even as all those things loom like a thick fog around my head and heart, I find myself moving forward – living – going on without him. Logic tells me it’s what I must do. Logic tells me that this is the way of the world, the way of human existence, the only way to have some kind of experience with whats left of my time breathing here in this lifetime. Logic tells me I will always have sadness, I will always understand true heartbreak and sadness. But logic also tells me that I will always know that I succeeded at life’s most precious challenge. I found love.
But there are things logic doesn’t tell me. It doesn’t tell me how to control my heart. It doesn’t tell me how to harness the erratic thoughts that often catch me unaware and pose to sabotage my day. It doesn’t tell me why Dave and I can never have any more than what we had. It doesn’t tell me if I will ever find love again or allow myself to love again. But it does tell me that these are questions everyone asks over and over despite no one ever having received an answer. I guess this is what they call faith. Hope? Does this small wonder mean I am recovering? This small inclination of having more to my life?
I know I walk confused. I have questioned everything. And I’m not done yet. So it is difficult to exist whole-heartedly in a world when one has not made their mind up yet of what it actually is. When someone doesn’t have reasons they believe in, motives they feel deep in their soul, intentions that are built on standards and principles and credence. I have questioned my whole existence and have wondered if things were really as I thought. If everything was really as I thought or as I think, or how I think.
It’s trite to say shit happens. Bad things happen to good people. Some things are out of your control. I have heard all these. I’m a master of them. I can whirl out some wise person’s opinion in a quote for most occasions. But as trite as it is, people do die. I think I’m getting this. I’m not getting used to it. But it’s been the only thing logic keeps shouting at me. I’m slow though. It takes a while until I can feel things in my bones. So no matter how hard logic shouted, no matter how many people told me that this is the deal with life, I couldn’t hear any of them over the screaming of my own heart. This is why they say it take time.
This is why I think I may be recovering. I don’t even know if recovering is the right word. Salvaging? Recuperating? Healing? Improving? Rebounding? I don’t know. Whatever is happening I like that I can see him clearer. I like that I can hear his voice and it doesn’t kill me to think about him, at least not all the time anymore. I know I can’t change it. I know the outcome is sealed and this is the hand I get. I accept that now. But I still miss him. And I will always miss him. There will always be a piece of that sadness in my heart. And logic, well, I’m learning there is a place for it in life, but it can’t answer everything, for there is no logic in the human heart. There is no logic in love. And until I have configured what this – my life means to me again, I’m sure I will continue to walk through this existence slightly confused, but at least there will be clear visions of Dave along the way. At least I will know that despite everything, I still feel some hope for this life.