I am sorry I have not written anything here in a while. It seems like forever. Sometimes my life get so crazy, so turned upside down that I don't even have time or the ability to write here. I need to write more. I will try.
So last week I learned of the deaths of two friends. Louie, a guy who was my roommate in LB about a year ago for about 7 months. David, a very good friend from AA. I have known David since 2008. I have not really spoke with him in about a year. I will miss them both... David was an important part of my AA program and sobriety during that time.
So the list grows longer: Alex S., Rick O., Tim C., Louis M., Uriel N., Jamie B., Dewayne S., David C. - all men I would consider good friends that have died. That's 8 men. Now if you add in the others (Louis, Walter S., etc), my elderly and sick family member and others who have passed...I have seen a lot of death in my life. I'm only 37. Some people have never even been to a funeral at my age, I have been to 20 or more... It takes a tole.
So when you said "pretend that I am dead." as a sort of angry yet mildy helpful tactic - I cringed. It hurt. Later when you said, "She's dead. She's not coming back"; after I requested the old "you", the you with the different attitude and affect towards me, return - was simply freighting. But the other night with the deaths of my friends on my heart, I did just that - I tried to pretend that YOU were dead.
I tried to got to your bridge but without my android w google maps, I'm lost in south county. So I went to the park. Yes, you know the one. I sat there for a while.. looking at the long sidewalk. The sidewalk that was once illuminated with the beauty that would run up to my waiting car. I will never forget the umbrella samurai and other brilliant moments. I tried to say goodbye and all of the other things that mourning requires to the passed souls.. I wanted to really let you go.
Here in lies the problem with the pretend death of the woman I had such great love for... You have no plot, no headstone, no grave. You have no where specific that I can go place a flower daily. No where I can go sit and visit on the weekends. No shiny marble that I can outline your sharply engraved name with my finger. No, you have no final resting place that allows me to sit and talk to you. No grass to absorb the falling tears. No where I can go and shout angrily about your mistimed departure... or arrival. No final resting place to call your home.
Why - because you are not dead. You are not dead in real life nor in my heart. You are alive and well and living a distance from me right now that you could run in a couple hours. You are alive - but - you would rather I pretend otherwise.
In your brilliant, beautiful, noble and commendable efforts to do the "right" thing, there were moments that things that were said to help you move toward your goal with so acutely and horrifically painful - you can't possibly realize. Then again, most of this escapes your cognitive recognition - you refused to believe. You just can't or won't comprehend the magnitude, depth and power of the love that I have for you... that kinda sucks.
Until then,stay insane, it just makes for a much better world, believe me.
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