."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.

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.

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.

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/

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.