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.