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.