It’s been a long fucking week.
I’ve been painting a happy face on and going through the motions all day, only to come home and freeze, entirely. The dishes have piled up, the washing machine stands silent and my bathroom sink reminds me of the gas station.
My silent phone haunts me because I feel such a huge absence of Anthony. Even his daily infernal text message:
A- Good morning Hollywood, #teamincredicockforever
J- Stop it, you’re not helping.
A- Don’t be such a quitter.
Anthony was the one person that called me for the omitted details after reading something spicy. He traveled for work and frequently had time on his hands to do so.
It’s quiet without him. Painfully so.
Something shifted yesterday and I started getting caught up.
I filled those sad moments with catching up on all the stuff I’ve let slide in being so sad. I’ve taken care of overdue paperwork, started bagging up all the extra shit to take to the thrift store and relaxing for a minute. I’ve allowed myself to just be sad, but also comforted.
That favorite man of mine has been priceless in putting a smile back on my face and I couldn’t have gotten through it without him. He’s waded through a lot of tears to be kind to me and once again… I’m nose deep in love with him. I was getting frustrated with myself over the situation then realized suddenly with a belly laugh that it is exactly how Anthony would have hoped. It hurts… but it also helps me feel like this grief is survivable.
I’ve conquered a huge amount of my own fears in the last month and this year has been full of devastating heartache that has forced me to grow out of my comfort zone.
I’m trying to learn how to get over someone while being stupid in love with them. I don’t know if it’s even possible and I’m not beating myself up about it anymore. I can’t blame myself because he’s incredible. I always name them well. You can’t fault someone for not loving you back, and it doesn’t make any sense to be an asshole to them for it, either. Maybe the lesson in him is just allowing myself to love him and let him go at the same time.
When given a choice between two things, I frequently want both. This is no departure from who I’ve always been. Instead of beating myself up about it, I’ve been comforted by him and taken the time to realize what’s truly important. Loving him isn’t a bad thing. He’s incredibly lovable and there are some really horrible people in the world who aren’t. Tormenting myself over it and crying over him isn’t healthy or worthwhile. Seeing someone die of jealousy has a way of forcing everyone else to check in with themselves.
This man inspires some crazy jealousy out of me. Shit I’ve never felt in my life. I look at the waitress twice if she smiles at him. It’s embarrassing. I’ve always been flattered in the past if someone admired the man in my life… I have great taste- that comes as no surprise. Until now, and I don’t like that feeling in the slightest. Jealousy is insecurity on fire and I have no interest in inviting that into my life. I love him endlessly, but the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach is enough to wake me up.
A second dear friend had her marriage end as a result of cheating, this week. She called me crying at work and I panicked and raced to her house. I’m officially the friend that will show up NO MATTER WHAT YOU SAY, for the rest of time. Seeing her crying and broken, packing bags and handing me her cats for the winter… just makes me all the more hesitant to ever trust someone again. I don’t know what it is with all the unfaithful people in the world, but Jesus Christ Almighty, is it really so much to ask someone to keep their damn pants on?
All this silence has given me time to sit in my own grief and anger at Anthony for taking his life from me, too. Suicide steals the ability of someone to help. I’ve been painfully depressed this year and have distanced myself from nearly everyone in the attempts to put myself back together in a more pleasant and healthy combination. Nobody can truly understand when you’re in such a dark place and I’m terrible at asking for help. My best friend Fancy, saves me. She knows when I’m in dark mode and avoiding the world. She’ll show up on my porch if she can’t get me out.
I thought I was Anthony’s person. That person that pulled him out of the shadows. The jealousy he felt in his relationship was crippling and he cried to me a million times about the fear he felt at the thought of someone else touching someone he was so desperate to not share.
It’s sobering because I’ve been crying over the loss of fireworks and now I’m seeing the dark side to living in the midst of a light show. When you’re pants-on-fire in love with your partner, uncertainty would be worse than cancer. Jealousy CAN be a death sentence.
Crazy love feels great until it drives you insane. I’d rather settle for sane happiness and steer away from feeling depressed. I’d rather walk away with what’s left of my heart and a wholesome appreciation for the cost of lingering too long.
Probably always a little in love with him.