love and pain

I write hoping that spilling these memories will ease my pain and allow me to work through this grief. I have never experienced anything of this magnitude in my life. On one hand, it almost seems pathetic. On the other hand, this is my life — a life that had been clouded by depression from various traumas that I have experienced over the course of many years.

Events that had occurred at my job left me mentally paralyzed, leading to a state of almost physical paralysis. I was damn near nonfunctional but operating daily on automation: wake, “work,” sleep. There was barely any life. This is hard to understand if you see me from just an outside, physical standpoint. The looks, the smile, the charm, the confidence. Beauty and intelligence…giftedness…from my vantage point…has often been a curse as much as it is seen to be a privilege.

But then Love came along, mind you, he had already been there, but I had a habit of running. But he came along in a different way, after watching me damn near drown. He wanted to help get me to a better place. I agreed while simultaneously establishing my parameters, intending to reject it/Him altogether. Because it wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t “right.”

What he gave me was what I call LIFE. With him, I experienced LIFE: happiness, ecstasy…LOVE: helping me move when I was sick, sick visits, flowers, 10 minute just-to-see-you’s, leave work early, sit on the couch, sit on the porch, sit in the car 5 am, hold and stroke your hand, under the full moon after midnight on the beach, give him an inch/5 minutes of my time, He takes me and runs with it.

I was free. I didn’t have to hide any aspect of my being. He didn’t care what I looked liked in any given moment, but was always mesmerized by my beauty and forever verbalizing it. All he wanted was my time. He didn’t care if I was smarter than him or if I talked in puzzles. He pointed out his own flaws. He told me things that I often didn’t care to hear about but I wanted to be to him what he was to me. We lived on another planet, in another universe….where this was our normal whether it was for 10 minutes, or 8 hours together. Time passed by so fast, but it stood so still.

And when I tried to end it, try to “do the right thing,” which didn’t feel right anyway, then it is taken out of my hands by Death. From LIFE, to Death. No predictability. No control. No future. No what ifs or what could’ve beens. Just The End. It shouldn’t feel so bad, right? I mean, I was tapering it down (running away again). But it is just gawddamn awful. An injury to my psyche. Yet another trauma. This is my life.

It has been 6 weeks exactly now, since the accident — an accident which I didn’t know about until He died.. 7 weeks exactly since I have seen Him — totally my fault. And 8 weeks since we were intimate in one of the most spiritual connections we had had. And I still love him.

*If you stalk me on Facebook (abeni doula) you will see some rays of sunshine in my memories. It is not all dark and depressing 100% of the time.