I spent today “working from home” in Zero Degrees while eldest got a new tattoo at Pierced Up. Just as well I was around, since he had a funny turn early on, and had to have food/chocolate/lucozade delivered. T’is all done now though, and he’s mighty proud of it. I took photos of it for him…and then cried because I couldn’t share them with Matt.
I picked up some lovely new jewellery for my ever stretching lobe piercings. I got the jewellery in one of my dimple piercings changed for a shorter better fitting stud. And I even picked up the odd Xmas present while on my way from Pierced Up to “work”. And after all was said and done, work and tattoo, AJ came down from working in Swindon to hang out with us for a bit, which was lovely. It had been a while, and it was really good to see him again. Even if I wasn’t very good at making conversation – after all, what the hell do I have to talk about that hasn’t been said many, many times before. My life is what it is and it’s not changing much, and I don’t have much to say for myself.
But Bristol just isn’t the same without Matt there. I still love it there. It’s just missing him to share it with. There are so many places he isn’t, since we spent quite a bit of time there. Luckily work kept me really busy for most of the time, and I got lots done. It was constructive. But I still found myself surprised by waves of tears every now and then, seemingly out of nowhere. Maybe because it’s somewhere we went together, somewhere we loved, and somewhere he wasn’t. And then there was the endo pain stabbing me, and him not being there to support me through it, and the drugs not cutting it either.
There are many elements to how I feel at any given time. Just for starters there’s the grief, the missing him madly, the void and the soul deep sadness. There’s the incredible loneliness. And then there’s the having no-one special to share anything with; be it pride in finally getting my accounts sorted yesterday,or the fact that I’ve just stretched my left lobe up to 5mm, or the fact that I seem to be doing a bit better at work. Grief is a complicated beast.
And I do all these things. I make myself get out of bed. I go to work, and I get work done. I get this thing or that thing done. I achieve something I’ve set out to do. And without someone to share with it, without some reason to it all, it all boils back down to “what’s the fucking point?” Yes, on balance, today was actually a fairly good day as days go these days. But that’s not saying much is it? One day at a time. One more day done. Whoopee.