Happy Holidays -Donathen my love

Donathen my love,
It has been more than a year since you left the earth. November was a lonely, lonely month without you.
It has never been my favorite month and is usually very cold. Yet, New York this year has been unseasonably warm. Only a few days have been cold and it is unsettling me. Unsettling too is that you are not here.  I have never experienced such loss. No one can replace you. I feel lost a lot of the time. I cannot believe that time has gone by and I do not feel better. Words are not all that helpful and yet, I have no other way of expressing myself, no other way of reaching out. The world has gotten darker in all respects. You would have loved being involved with the protests. I am quite involved in my own way, and I believe you would be proud. I wish for you to Become the man you have always wanted to be. I wish for us all to Become the people we envision, and not just dream about it. Happy Holidays- Donathen, my love. I know you can see me, and hear me,and that you are where everyone originates from, and I love you with all of my heart. I wish everyone JOY and LIGHT. Happy Holidays.

Limitless

Donathen my love,
There are others who have lost the loves of their lives and I know how they feel.
I know that things will go on, despite death. And this at times is daunting. How can things keep going when you are not here? Why were you taken just when things were beginning to turn around for you? I do not know the answers. But are you gone forever? No. No you are not my love. I have kept your voice on the answering machine. I have saved videos of you and I, and watched them when I thought they would uplift rather than plummet me into an abyss of sorrow. I look at the photographs of you, of you and I smiling, together, arm in arm, and I kiss them. At times, I am still overcome with such grief! It is less shocking to me now. I wear your rings. I bring them to my lips and kiss them too. At times, I still sleep in your shirts. I wear your bandanas. I try to bring you back, even for an instant, and sometimes I can and sometimes,I do and then I run from the mountain of pain that begins to arise. I know that your body is gone. I still have some of your ashes in the closet, nestled in a blue velvet bag. I cannot seem to part with them. You are in my heart forever. No one and nothing can erase you. No one and nothing can ever replace you.I accept that. I honor your life and pray for you every day because I know that you exist. I cannot explain it, but I know. Words are so very limiting. You are limitless.

The Wreckage of the Past...The Beauty of the Moment

Donathen my love,
Tonight, I was shocked. And you know me, I really do not get shocked that often. When you have known people and have been a person with addictions, you get immune to certain events, or at least you try to be.
Well, there was that young girl who was the girlfriend of one of my neighbors, Mike. He was renting the apartment to the right. Remember? I think I told you. And one morning I woke up pretty early  a miracle on it's own) and I heard police radios, and movement right outside the front door. I opened it up to reveal that Mike's apartment had been secured as a possible crime scene.There was crime scene tape up, and detectives,and I found out later that the girl ended up asphyxiating on her own vomit. This guy, Mike-was in trouble to begin with. The two of them were always wasted, always fighting, and were always enmeshed in a whole bunch of drama. Well, she ends up dead and that was horrible and just so sad. She was 23 years old. I know it happens every day to someone's child, or someone's spouse, or someone's love. It's still heartbreaking.
I slipped a letter under his door letting him know that if he ever needed to speak to someone that I was here. I was honest about my own struggles with alcohol. I wrote that I had a good amount of time under my belt and that there is hope when you least expect it. It was a gesture. Simply to say, "I get it." It was all I could do.
Sometimes you just don't realize that for some people , there is not another million chances to get it. In fact, the last chance passed you by, but you didn't think about it. I know you know what I mean. Anyway, I didn't hear from him again. He moved out shortly thereafter. I would occasionally see him downtown but we never spoke. Tonight, I found out from another neighbor that he tried to cross a four lane highway in the beginning of the summer. He was 10 sheets to the wind. Blotto. He died when two cars ran him over. You and I both know that drinking is but a symptom, and the cars that ran him over were just the last straw on the camel's back. For a true alcoholic, alcohol takes no prisoners.  When I learned about Mikes' fate, I gasped. How awful and tragic and commonplace.

You and I both stepped out from the wreckage of our past and we were able to relish in the beauty of the moment. Many moments in fact. How lucky were we? I'll tell you.

Very.

Praying and the Dishes

Donathen my love,
The other day I was singing as I did the dishes. It started out with the tunes that I know and like. "Aquarius", "Man I love" "Zing! Went the Strings of my Heart". Oldies but goodies. And the next thing I know I am trying to write a song-poem. And how it feels to be without you, even though i know in my heart of hearts that I will be with you again, and the words are not so important now, but the next thing I know in trying to explain this is that the hardest part of now is the not being with you in the flesh, simple as that. And tears are running down my face, and I realize that this is what it is like to pray. I miss ...
Your smell. Your embrace. Your laugh. Your warm skin. Your expression. Your dreads.
Your body. Your grace. Your smile. Everything that you were to me.
I can feel you. Even though i cannot touch you. And I can faintly hear you, although I know you cannot respond to me in the way that I want you to. With that amazingly unique voice. The timbre just so Donathen. No mistaking that voice anywhere.
And I have faith my darling that I will be with you again. I know that as sure as I know that I have all my fingers and toes. But the hard part -is time, and feeling all those minutes and hours that you simply cannot and will not be replaced. You are an original. No carbon copies were made when God made you my buster brown. My pea in a pod. My "D". There is no one on this earth right now that is you, or that ever will be you. This is why I cry. This is why I yearn to hold you in my arms. This is why my tears went up with the dish soap bubbles to God. And this is why I will always pray for you sweet man, no matter what part of the universe you reside in.

Miracle

Donathen my love,
I am a living miracle because of your love. There is so much impermanence.
What is permanent is the love we share even beyond the body, beyond time. Without this special love we have,  I know that I would not be here today. I would have had nothing to buoy me up from life's injustices in my every day existence then but I did have you.

Tireless, unwavering, always seeming to believe (even if you didn't) in my capabiltes, my strengths, my talents, and never showing me your fear. Perhaps if you had showed me your fear I would have gotten the message sooner, but perhaps not. You will always be mine. You are the man who will be forever in my heart and soul as my one true friend, love, and pal. No one replaces you. You are an original. A miracle too.

My love for you has not diminished; if anything, it is stronger. I reflect back. I reflect forward. I have you with me in any given present moment ,now. We are connected and will always be connected. Maybe we have been connected for many lives.  My pea in a pod-my soul mate- how I love you so! How I miss you!

I live on as a testament to your hard work and your faith. 5 years without a drink! Only God and you, can claim handiwork for that!

Birthday

Donathen my love,
I had a wonderful birthday and I know you were there as well. I saw beautiful sunrises and sunsets, I saw the stars spread across the black sky, like thousands of diamonds on velvet, and felt you watching. Or, at least I wished you were watching. I wished you were there with me. I did feel sad. I felt my love go out to you across the universe. I felt my deepest wishes wrap their arms around you and felt the shock of your absence. Still, I know you are proud. Look what you did my love! You got me to 50! No one would have believed it. But it was you. And God. Together you and HE gave me the gift of life. Thank you my dearest, my love, my soul mate. Thank you for never giving up on me. For having faith even when I did not. Thank you for my life my sweetheart. Without you, I would not be here. I wish  that next time around, you get to be with my friends and myself on my 50th. So, I am putting it out there. I keep the possibility open.
At the very least, I wish you 10 more years with me on earth and at the most---always with me on earth.
I wish our love always holds us together.

 

Ache

Donathen my love,
I am in the part of the world where we were almost a year ago....and I have to say, life is very hard without you. There is this ache. It is almost unbearable, so I push it and you away. Then, I purposely listen to your songs so I can hear YOU. Sometimes, I get through more than one full song. At other times, I just cannot take the pain of the ache. The me without you "ache." Dying seems like it might be OK because I know you will be waiting for me. I know this. I also know you are not planning to see me anytime soon, and that is ok too. It's just knowing that I will be with you "soon enough" that sometimes gets me through the day.
I think of where you might be.....I am so fucking angry at Sprint. They told me how and where and what I should do with all the paperwork, so I could change your account and just pay to keep your voicemail on....and then what do they do? They take away the ONLY reason I had been paying the bill in the first place. They took away YOUR VOICE. It hurts so much that people just don't fucking care that you wrote them a personal letter explaining who you are, and why you have paid the bill, and I just feel like ripping the heads off of everyone there, but I know it just doesn't matter, because you are never going to come back to me in this life. I have little videos of you. So, that will have to do. And now, I must tell Sprint to go fuck itself and stop paying the bill, but I have gotten disconnected from them 4 times as of last week trying to sort out things, so I am just a little bit disgusted. The fuckers.
NO, Donathen, my love....life on this planet only gets worse and less humane every day without you.
You aren't missing much.
I love love love love love love you. So much.
I ache.

."Process"

Donathen my love,
It has been a long while since I last wrote to you. The world is an emptier place without you. I don't think you could have imagined how your departure has left me feeling like I am missing a big piece of myself. I walk around knowing that you are not here for me to share anything with, and that leaves this space-this gigantic space that cannot be filled with anything, or anyone.

 Time is going by. Time is ticking on and I never want to lose the sense of you, although I know I will lose some of it, because it is just too painful, too hard to continue on without you, so it will happen.
 I don't want to be a ghost woman loving a ghost man. I know you understand that. I think it is amusing and a bit tawdry that people have seen you, and talk to you, and oh I suppose what is the harm in delusions.....But who am I to say? I know you know I believe you exist, but I also know that you wouldn't waste your time  hanging around down here for just anybody.
 I can hear you say in your famous gesture to me, your fingers painting quotation marks around the word, "Process".  So.  So, this fading thing...it frightens me. I don't want to lose you again! I know that must sound crazy but every day that goes by, every moment that ticks past, I AM losing you, little by little. Very slowly, it is all fading into the background. This too is a "process" and I hate it like all of the others!
I think though, it is a protective measure. A protective "process" so to speak. Life goes on, like a relentless machine without a soul but in order to keep going, you take another deep breath, another step forward, even if it feels like hell. And slowly, the enormous space which  exists now instead of the love that was in your life, that space, gets smaller. It never closes, it just gets smaller as time passes.
 I woke up crying last week. I have never done that. Woke up. Sobbing and sobbing.  Still in a partial dream state, with the tears just coming down in long, endless streams.
 I had a long talk with God.
"I don't understand. It makes no sense. Things were just falling into place for him. Why-why did you take him? "
God did not answer me. I didn't expect Him to. I just wanted to let Him know that I am not happy. And that I am angry.
Although, I suppose He already knew that.

Sometimes life on life's terms makes no sense at all. Sometimes life on life's terms sucks. There is a bigger picture, but I am unable to see it, Still, it is of some comfort that I do not have the answers.

Goodnight sweetheart. My loving and darling man. See you on the other side of the darkness. God willing.

Ashes

Donathen my love,
Tomorrow I am going to be a brave girl. Tomorrow I am going to the funeral home in the village and get your ashes. I don't know why I have such trouble about this. I suppose it is shocking to me that what is left of you is 6 pounds. I am sorry that I haven't written. I guess there was nothing new to say. It is the same- a big, empty space that once held you -now exists in my heart. I am tired. I am lonely. I keep going. I can recreate your lips, your hair falling like whispers on my cheeks, your slender fingers and the callouses. I am having trouble recreating your voice in my mind, but I have your voice mail still -to refresh me. I keep paying the bill. Don't want to let go of that yet. I also found some footage with you and me on the beach. How it made me smile! I haven't listened to your songs though. You know how much I love your songs and especially the ones you wrote for me. But, I just couldn't stand the yearning and pain that came up when I heard you sing and strum your guitar. Killing me softly. I can't do it right now.
Each day seems like a forever without you. So, I suppose I do my best not to feed those feelings. I do my best to put you a little to the side. I love you. I don't want you to think that I am forgetting you. I know that you would not want me to suffer more than I am. God! Death doesnt seem so bad, knowing that I will be with you again. But for now, I must live on life's terms. And I hate it. I hate that you are not here. I hate that I miss you so much. I hate that there is no one else in the world who is you. But, I must continue living. There is nothing else to do.
Help me D. not to totally lose it tomorrow when I carry your ashes home.

Moving

Donathen my love,
Why do I feel as though you left the earth a million moments ago? Why does it feel as though you are fading, almost phantom like -away? I am moving from the apartment. Will you come with me? Will the traces of you come to the new dwelling? I don't know. Again, it strikes me as strange that people tell me they speak to you. Why do they do that? Can't they understand that you have important things to do right now? Or maybe it is me just jealous. I don't have the need to speak to you darling. I feel you in my heart and I know that wherever you are-because I do believe you ARE , somewhere, you know what I am doing. Somewhere in time and space we are connected and it feels silly to say things out loud. Maybe it is because I must move. I must move slowly away from all of the loss. This may be the reason that I cannot quite hear your voice, the timbre of it so easily anymore. Is something wrong with me? I think it is the merciful process that comes with coming out of the other side of grief. The loved one must fade into the background for sanity to exist. So, my sweet man-I am moving. The girl who flies by the seat of her pants and comes out landing on her two feet, is moving from one place to another. But I know that I have you. I know "I got you", right between my beating heart and the memory of what we have. I know that somewhere out there, you know I am yours. No words necessary.

Pushing you away

Donathen my love,
I realize that I am keeping you at arms length. People say they see you, hear from you. I don't believe it, not really. If it's true it doesn't bring me any peace. If it brings them peace, I am truly happy for them. I want you. Not a sign, not a wisp of you, or a glance. I want you in the flesh. You to hold and talk to. If I cannot have that I want nothing. I look at your picture and touch your features, and then I put the picture away in a drawer and I do not think about it. I cannot listen to your music right now. It is a tease. Your voice on the answering machine is a tease. I cannot fan that fire anymore. I miss you so terribly and I am angry that I do not have you near me in the flesh. You will always be near me, I know that. We are destined to meet again. But in this life, the only life I have right now you have left a hole as big as the universe. No one and no thing is filling it. So, I am pushing you away. Putting your things in suitcases and boxes. Pushing you away, so that I do not have to experience every cell in my body and soul crying out , wailing and moaning, at the loss of you.
Anger is so much easier for me to function in and I know you appreciate that. My functioning is one of your wishes for me, and I am so very grateful of what you gave me. You must know that I would not be here had it not been for you and one other and you know who I mean. She is a pillar of strength, and never gave up on me-just like you.
My two pillars. My pillars of strength and love. Now my house is one sided, and it probably must come down at some point, because pillars do crumble and have to be re-built. Still, some part of me always rests underneath the missing pillar that you built for me, to shelter me from harm, to infuse me with hope. These things are still there because of you. I love you Donathen. I love you more than I have loved anyone in my life. I cannot believe that I couldn't save you. That nothing worked. That God had made a decision way before this, and there was no way anyone could change his mind about it. I am angry at God because he took you from me.
God will understand why I feel this way. God will forgive me. So, I push you away my love, my best friend, in order to live yet another day without you in it.

Smoke

Donathen my love,
I am smoking your cigarettes, despite not liking menthol. I am wearing your bracelet. I am using your creams and lotions and foot scrubs. I am putting on medicated lip balm that you kept in your jacket pocket. I feel closer to you doing these things. I know you have touched them, I know your lips and your skin and your hands and your lungs, and your elbows, and your feet have been touched by these objects. I am meeting women, women like me who are not old. Who look at the long road ahead without their love, like me. Slowly we are finding one another. We are people who have to consider that life will go on and on and on. The older widows, they have different problems. They have life is at an end problems. I am told this is why I cannot be in a group with them, and so I am waiting for a group that will let me in. A group of people who look at the rest of their lives as though it stretches forever, but all of us- no matter our age, or our gender-have that one thing in common. Loss. The emptiness that is living without the other. Forever until we die is how it seems.  I know that old or young, rich or poor, we are a brotherhood. A sisterhood of longing and aching and weeping and wringing of hands. We are the same in that we mourn specifically. We mourn the absence of a lover, a boyfriend, or girlfriend, a wife, or husband, a help mate, or soul mate. It is different than losing a Father. Or Mother. It is different than losing a childhood friend, or co-worker. So very different. Every day a challenge without the one who shared in everything, like a twin joined at the hip who is suddenly amputated. No matter the miles, or time spent away from one another, always a connection. Never not a connection. Then death comes like a surgeon. And your other half has been ripped from you. Every day a long 24 hour period where hope and meaning are challenged with every minute that ticks by.
I use your things my love, so that I am closer to you. I put my fingers where your fingers were. I scoop out the lip balm, knowing that you touched it and now I am touching you. I put the goop on my lips, remembering as I do it -how you did it. And I smile. Yes, sweetheart it makes me smile. All of your little idiosyncrisies make me smile as I remember them. And for a moment, we are together. And then it is gone. But still, that moment is a sweet one. And I look forward to these moments. Even if they fall a million miles away from the reality that once was you.

Numb

Donathen my love,
I wish I were numb, and I keep trying to be that way. I am back to shoving food in, and television, because I do not want to keep crying. I don't like the way it overtakes me, and makes me feel lost. I don't like the way it wipes out all hope and all sunshine in me. This crying is a quieter version of the deep wailing. It is stealthy- where streams of tears just pour from my eyes and will not stop. No sound comes out. Just tears in a never ending stream. And the ache. The constant ache. Nothing helps. I cannot take a big drink of my favorite liquor, those days are long gone. But I want that numbness. That feeling of no worries. No response. Nothing. I want to scrape my insides out and be a shell. I just don't want to feel. I don't want to think. I don't want to miss you. I don't want to be anything except numb. But nothing works. Nothing. All I want is sleep where maybe my dream might pull me out this nightmare of losing you. Crawl into a little ball and just sink into the mattress. Sink away from the world. Away from the world without you in it No one is you. No one is who you are. I want you. But you don't exist here anymore. You only exist inside me and that is not good enough.

Ways of Dying

Donathen my love,
You must know that Bill died right after you did. And I spoke to K about it and she told me all of the details which were terrible. I am so glad for your sake that you did not suffer as Bill did. I am so happy and grateful that your suffering was not long and arduous, not darkened by the disease of addiction. I feel terrible for Bill, and all addicts who die at the hands of a disease that can not be contained. Dying of alcoholism is absolutely one of the slowest, most terrible ways to die. And a cirrhotic liver is an agonizing way to go. I would not wish this on my worst enemy. I am sad for K. and J. as I know you must be. And obviously for Bill who didn't get it. So, I do take comfort in knowing that for you,death was somewhat fast, and somewhat like breathing in and out, and then not. This does give me comfort. This does ease my soul. When I saw your body, you were not there. It was so obvious. Just a shell. No longer encasing you. No longer animating that beautiful body. My beautiful, beautiful man. No you were no longer in the building. That was clear. I love you my darling. I love you beyond measure.

Future Time

Donathen my love,
I find myself thinking of the future. The future in this life. The future in the next life. Sometimes, it makes me feel better to know that I don't have long on this earth, relatively speaking. I think of when we can be in one an other's arms again. And the relief I will feel being held by you. I try not to think of all the time that I might have on earth without you. Living to 60,70 or 80 . I can't think about it. I don't. I think of what it will be like to see you and feel you and be with you again. What the next life might bring. It could be a pipe dream. No one is sure what exists afterwards, but I gain comfort thinking of a future time when we are as we used to be, only better.
I believe the Creator is a merciful one. So, I rest in that belief, and let things wash over me, and I try not to worry- where or how or if. It seems like your death was so long ago, and then, it seems like a week or two at most. But in fact it was a little more than 2 and a half months, and it feels like forever ago. And it is winter and I hate winter and I hate it even more now. But spring will come. Spring will definitely come, as it always has.

Daydream

Donathen my love,
Every now and then I allow myself to daydream. I only allow this when I am feeling centered and good. Today was a day that I wasn't at the edge of my heart about you, so I indulged. I heard a slow moving jazz song on the radio, and replayed in my mind, a moment we had in Brooklyn years ago. We slow danced to no particular tune, in the middle of the day, for no particular reason. I felt you in my daydream.Your arms about me, your long locks brushing my face.To dream this again, did not make me cry. Today was a good day.

Casino

Donathen my love,
I am going to the casino. This thing we loved to do together and I am going to go alone, I won't wait for you. I am aware that I pretended even more than I realized that I didn't want the romance anymore, but that isn't true. I told myself these things because I did wait for you, but kept going in spite of myself. Feeling as I always have about you, but continuing life despite my feelings. Paths had grown apart. Then, they were coming back and they met at the end, but I want more. I feel short changed. Angry. God Damn it! I want more of you and that is an impossibility. So, I am going to gamble and I will play a few hands of blackjack and wish me luck, and hope I win something for you my love.
***
So, I did. I did win at the blackjack table. But of course, I lost. Then, today I won again, but then, lost. There is no rhythm. No rhyme. I am lost, not just the money. Like a zombie I roam the casino floor. No one to have dinner with. No one to shrug the shoulders and count the losses with.The casino isn't as fun as it used to be. You are what is missing my sweet darling. I so miss talking with you. I so miss our relationship. The hole in my heart is a gaping cavernous never ending mother f-ing gorge. I don't even know why I came here. I just thought....
I listened to your outgoing phone message. And listened to it again. I have very few words. Angry. Hurt. Lonely.  Filled with sorrow. Probably going to go downstairs now and blow more money. The hole will not be filled. And I know that even as I give the dealer more dollars and cents.
It is not the same. Nothing will ever be the same. I am so very lonely without you.

Frustration

Donathen my love,
I cannot talk to my friends. They think they understand. They want to understand. They don't let me talk. It is as if they have to keep talking in order for the time to pass between us, without my expressing what I need to express. Whatever that is. They only speak about themselves. Maybe I am actually alone. Maybe that is a fact. Maybe I have nothing in common with them at this time. Maybe Maybe. I begin to say something, and they continually bring up something else. Maybe they don't realize. Maybe they do. It's so very interesting. My friends want to be there for me, but they are not. I don't expect them to be. But all I need is an ear. A person to really listen to what I am saying. Not happening today. Not happening. So, I am frustrated. Maybe I should call my therapist. That just pisses me off.

strange weather

Donathen my love,
The weather outside is strange. It has me feeling as if I want to sleep. It is not raining, nor sunny. It is not too cold or too hot. It is overcast, and the sky is stormy. I realized that I have no tolerance anymore. Is that something that just came or is that something that happened a long time ago and I simply did not notice? I do not tolerate people's complaints. I do not tolerate any of their problems unless it is life threatening. Sometimes, I feel as if humanity is seeped in one long and arduous complaint. Who cares? I do not. I try to give my friends' patience but I have none. I am becoming as strange as the weather. I do not want to go out. I do not feel like having a good time. I do not feel like much when I am like this. I do make the best of it. I do. But, There is no poetry in my writing today. I am existing.Yet, I finally bathed. One day goes into the next. Some days are good. Some days are like this weather....strange. Melancholic. I just want to sleep.And then, I feel a bit guilty about that. And then, I don't.

Annoy me

Donathen my love,
Please annoy me. Come back and piss me off. Act like an ass, full of ego and selfishness. Please come back. Please. Please please. Come back. I am sick to my stomach. I cannot live through the day without crying. I cannot be in the day without knowing you are not in the day with me. So, come back and give me the worst of our worst days. Even the worst of our worst days is better than this. This feeling is wordless. This deprived heart is longing. I know I  can make it through the day with you. I don't know what to do with myself without you.  I wander. Wander through the house. Wander through the aisles of the supermarket. I am a zombie. Do chores. Do laundry. Do writing. Do driving. Do something. Anything. But then, I become tired of avoiding. And the sorrow washes over me, and I feel sick. I want to vomit my sadness up. Please come back. Please please please. Oh, I know you cant.  I know you can't. I just thought I would beg for you anyway because I don't know what else to do. I just don't know what else to do.

Changed

Donathen my love,
Nothing has changed. Life goes on. Terrible things are happening on the news. We are all still the same, struggling to make sense of our short lives. Trying to find meaning. Looking for a purpose, or not. Nothing has changed. But it has. You are no longer here. No longer here to put your opinion into things and the ways of the world. Your voice is my voice darling. I will keep fighting the injustices of this world to the best of my ability.I will do what we always did. I will say things out loud, so that they do not remain in the darkened silence. I will shout that cancer patients need to have the pre testing of chemotherapy before it is administered. We have over 70 signatures. It seems like a drop in the bucket. But with drops, come litres. With litres come gallons. So, just as a thousand mile journey begins with one step, so a drop in the bucket becomes a waterfall.
I will fight for you my love. I will fight for all of us who have experienced first hand how destructive chemotherapy is, and how unnecessary it is for some. I wish with all of my heart I had taken you to the Cancer Centers of America. I recently learned that they pre test tumors for the validity of the use of chemo . If I only knew then, what I know now. But, I didn't. We did the best we could darling. The very best we could.

To sign the Petition to make Chemo testing go to: Petition

Down

Donathen my love,
All of a sudden I felt depressed. This week was actually one where I felt a rhythm. A rhythm that had been missing, so I was very grateful and relieved. It has been a long time, since I felt that I had time for myself. Time for cleaning. Sorting. Movies. Lunch with a friend. I woke up early and felt happy. It was a beautiful day out. Then, came the cloud that wouldn't leave. It snuck up on me. And then I recognized what it was. My enemy. Depression.

I went to bed. I had nothing else to do. I know that you would have approved. "Put it down." You would have said, and that is exactly what I did. I don't like going to bed in the middle of the day, but sometimes, you have to "Put it down."

I spoke to a friend of yours yesterday, and I have to say she just annoys me. I know she doesn't like me, and I really don't like her, but it is you that we have in common. She is just too much of an expert on things. That just drives me nuts. Then again, I am kind of an expert on things too. Well, at the very least, you wanted us to communicate. We may not see eye to eye, but we are speaking. She talks to you all the time, she told me. I don't. Except here. Usually, I just talk to myself. I talk about you in the third person. It's just that I know you aren't here. I don't feel you anymore. I wish I did.  I shouldn't begrudge her. If she can talk to you, I suppose that is a good thing. I cannot. It doesnt comfort me in the least. I am not all airy fairy about these things anymore. I don't know if I ever was when it came to a loved one dying. It's not as if I talked to my Father after he died. I did however, write him notes. Just like I am doing here. Back then, there were no computers. Funny, that just seems like a million years ago. No computers. 1990. September. The 24th. The day my father died. One day, I suppose it will feel like a million years ago that you died. But not today. Miss you baby with all my heart and soul. But I can't think about you too much today cause I am already a bit down.

Lighter

Donathen my love,
I am light this morning. It is a typical Florida morning, bearable temperatures, sunlight streaming through the trees. Dog toys all over the yard! I feel good. I am still sick with bronchitis, but it takes time. As you would have said, "Give time, time". Always prolific. I spoke to another woman the other day who had lost her husband three years ago. She told me that things would get better. She told me that her husband died of pneumonia. She is a doctor and people would ask her, "Well, you're a doctor. Why weren't you able to save him?" How awful for her. She told me that there is a choice being a weeping widow, or a merry widow. That there is an upside to death. I haven't found it yet. I haven't found the upside to losing you. I am simply grateful this morning and that's a start.

I want everyone to read, share and sign the petition to make chemo testing a law. Here is the URL to copy and paste. D. you know me, I wont stop till it's done.

http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/chemo-doesnt-work-on-all-cancers-make-chemo-testing-a-law/

Action

Donathen my love,
You know me. I do not sit still. Sometimes that is a good thing.
I have started a petition in your honor.I want the US to make chemo testing a law. At the very least, it must be disclosed to patients that they have a choice. It is not right to poison people who are already suffering if the poison will never work. I love you with every fiber of my being. Sweet man. This is for you. This is for all of my friends who had cancer and who have cancer.
http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/chemo-doesnt-work-on-all-cancers-make-chemo-testing-a-law/

Fragments

Donathen my love,
An explosion of sorts went off inside of me when you died, and blew our love into fragments. The fragments float and seek solace.The fragments seek one another, trying to put themselves back where they once were. But it will not happen. The devastation of your death is evident. Everyone who knew you, is gravitating towards one another. Hoping, grasping, trying to find the ghost of you through one another. We are not people who would naturally be with one another. All of us abandoned. Orphans. And we are fighting over silly things because our feelings are similar and there are jealousies of who was the favorite, and there are jabbings through the internet, but the jab feels like a real jab and even though words are just that, I read through the lines. And the jabs cause small tears but no blood comes out. I hate everyone who loved you. I love everyone who loved you. It is an odd mixture of emotion. But it is a working out of things, a coming to terms, an attempt at making a cohesive piece of art with all of the fragments that are floating in each of us.

Days

Donathen my love,
It's days...and more days...and more. It's just many days. Too many days. All days without you. Mornings, noons, nights. Days that make months, months that will end up in years. Some moments, I cannot bear the thought of you. I cannot bear remembering you because of the days. The days that are ahead. The days that are behind. The days without you. All of the hours, and minutes, that make up the days. All. Without. You. All the days without your smile, and your touch, and your wisdom, and your support, and your love. All the days that I will not receive any more of the things you gave. And it hurts bad. It hurts.So bad.

Imperfect

Donathen my love,
I have been coughing, choking, asthma returning and it will not go.
I know that the lungs represent grief in Chinese Medicine. Went to an acupuncturist today, and she was not surprised that I am having trouble healing physically. You are gone from my life, and I have not even hit the half-way mark of getting this mammoth loss of your death, this grief,  up and out of me.
I keep thinking of the affair. It keeps coming up. It keeps haunting me. I read our old emails and how we struggled, and how you lost me. And how drugs took you back. And how you held onto all of the pain of trying to help me, and that when I was finally helped, and sober, you could not find yourself. I re-lived your realizations about how living out your rock star fantasy only brought you pain, and how you had finally found your path through all of our suffering and were coming out the other side. You were on your way. I was so happy for you. We were imperfect. I am imperfect. Love is imperfect and so is life. And it is painful to realize how much we wasted. It is painful to read all of our hopes, dreams, nastiness, love, fury, rage, helplessness, belief, talent, struggle, loss, respect, toxicity,friendship, begging, trying, coming to terms, realizations and growth. And it is completely imperfect. But it is real. And it is two people who did not give up on one another. And it is my alcohol addiction, and it is your co-dependency, and then it is your pot addiction, and other addictions and obsessions that made me draw the line. "No" is a word I could use. You never were good at using that word with me. You spoiled me. You pampered me. Babied me. How I loved you for that. How you suffered because of it. No, we were imperfect in love. But that is what love is here on earth. I am angry. I am hurt. I am jealous of anyone taking you away from me. But she really didn't. You and I never were apart. Not in our souls. Never apart. Earth love is so very complicated. All of our baggage comes with us. All of our weak natures, and disturbed fantasies. All of our expectations, and demands. Then, that all gets stripped away when we lose one another. I miss you my imperfect man. I miss our struggles. I don't know how it would have worked, if it would have but I am angry that I don't have the opportunity to experience that. I am angry at myself for wasting energy on trying not to feel, cause both of us did that and we both came to the realization that one way or another, it's going to happen. We are going to feel. We are going to experience pain. It always catches up I hate you for lying to me. I hate myself for lying to myself. I love you anyway.I have to forgive you and myself. Because nothing actually broke our love. It was not perfect.  Imperfect. Well worn love.f

Pedestal

Donathen my love,
You never put me on a pedestal. You just loved me for me. How rare a commodity is that? No amount of flesh on my thighs turned you away.In fact, the more flesh, the better. No morning breath, no sweat smell, nothing from me made you cringe. And if it ever did, you never let me know. You had this ability to just love me. Raw and unadulterated love of me. Nothing I ever did made you leave. Nothing I ever said made you pack your bags.You took unspoken vows. Better OR worse. Didn't matter. I can hear your voice in my ear. "I got you." You would grin at me. Or, you would fight with me but you never shut out your heart from me and it astonished me. I simply had never met anyone who loved as you did. Never met anyone who just loved me. Me for me. Good with not good. The best and the worst of me you loved. I did not abuse that gift. I loved you back with all of the might and generosity a woman can give a man. But who will accept me as you did? Who will love the wrinkles, the added flesh, the aging face? Who will accept without problem, the weaknesses, the idiosyncrasies, the bit of craziness? Perhaps there will be someone but they will not be you.
The hole within the center of me, it's circumference gets wider, and deeper and at times, I feel I no longer have a heart. Just an empty space that once held it. The empty space creates an ache which is vast. I miss your smells. I miss your touch. I miss your face. Your smile. Your scowl. Every little bit of you. I miss. Every. Little. Bit. You never put me on a pedestal, so you never had to tear me down.

shock

Donathen my love,
I must be in shock. I cannot believe you are really dead. I know you are, but it is shocking. It is
incomprehensible how you could have died. It's as if the entire year was a dream, and now I am
waking up, and realizing that it was actually not a dream. I know it makes no sense. I just have
this feeling that what we imagine reality to be, is not so. How can you be gone? How can it be?
There is no one in this world who is you. There is no one here that understands me like you. There is no one here who can share my day, like you. And you are not here. I can't believe it. So, I wander in a state through my day. Like shock. No anger, no pain, no sadness, just shock. I just can't believe it. Yet, I know it is true.

Ashes

Donathen my love,
I don't know why I am having a problem picking up your ashes. They are still with the funeral parlor. I had a friend tell them I wasn't ready and they were understanding. Still, I wonder why I have this aversion. I don't want to feel the physical weight of the ashes.I don't want to know the reality that your beautiful body is now this.  It is too painful. I don't want to know that all you are now is a bag full of ashes. I am not a squeamish person in a lot of ways. But for some reason, I am afraid to do this. Pick up your ashes. Yet, at some point soon, I must. Maybe it is because, then I will physically experience that you are really not here. It is not in my head. It is real. Even though I saw you before you died, even that I saw your dead body. Even though I kissed your mouth in death and saw quite clearly that you were not in the vehicle that was once your body. It just seems so absurd that all you are now are ashes. But this is life, and we do go back to the earth when we die. Our bodies are not who we are. Our bodies house us, but we are released from them when we die. Still, I ask- Why am I so reluctant to pick up your ashes?  It isn't right that your ashes are with strangers. When I return to NY, I will get brave and do it. Sometimes the imagination gets the better of us, and we imagine a worse scenario than really exists. How is it possible that all you are on this earth right now, is ash? But that is the truth. Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust.....It is so very final. That's it. I am not ready for the finality of it all. I want to delay this as much as I can. Until I am ready to embrace the finality, I don't think I will pick up your ashes. So, I pray for the strength to embrace reality. Quite an order.

New Years Day

Donathen my love,
Here it is 2011. What are you up to? What are you doing?  I remember the trip to Puerto Rico, when we danced the samba. You were not in a good mood until you started moving those hips! I remember Atlantic City at the Tropicana. Not a good year. I was so thin, you could practically see through me. You got mad  when   I made a bubble bath and turned on the jacuzzi,  and  got bubbles all over the bathroom floor, how i laughed. That was the best part of the night.We spent 2003,2004.2005,2006 New Year's together. Then, there were only the phone calls on New Years.I miss your voice. I miss your longing. I miss your tender kisses. I miss one last dance. I miss. I miss. I miss. And all I can do is exhale. Where are you now? What are you doing? I am here in 2011. You are not. Have you ever been in 2011? I hope that we will be together soon. In the meantime, I am here day in and day out, trying to figure out all of the things that we used to try to figure out together. Like, what is the meaning? The purpose? The struggle for? It is very lonely without you. But, as Gloria Gaynor put it so profoundly...."I will survive". Love you love you love you my hunney bunney. Forever and ever and ever.