It took me a long time to get out of bed today, good resolutions not withstanding. I know what my counsellor wants be to me doing. And I tried. I set alarms and everything. But why get up? I had nothing to do, nowhere to be, no-one to be with. Not until 7.30pm anyway. Being asleep was infinitely preferable to being awake. Nonetheless I did make myself get up earlier than I wanted to, even if that was well into the afternoon. My dreams were so much better than awake was…
Once up, I was going to go and walk, but the forecast was for yet more grey and raining, so…you know, no thanks. I am so fed up the weather outside being exactly how I feel on the inside. So in between regular bouts of crying, I did chores, and housework, and accounts, and various similar stuff, whilst listening to the crimejunkie podcast, chatting with Jo, a ukpb friend, which was lovely, and generally pretending that life was ok and normal. And then I even had a shower and attempted to make myself clean if not presentable. I put clothes on, I put my war paint on, I put the right jewellery/armour on.
And then not so later on I went out to the Crown, and met friends and played pool, Austin joined us for a bit, and as the end of the evening drew nigh, for the first time in a long time, I msged Matt, which I know is completely pointless, but I just couldn’t help myself. I just wanted to tell him what was happening in my life, and how much I missed him. Tragic, I know. Since I have his phone, if the contract is still going, I’m the only person who’s going to read it anyway. But it is what it is. We were always in touch…and there is such a gaping void now. I am reminded every time I want to text, to message, to call, that I can’t, and it hurts. To be reminded that he isn’t here. That he is gone, ahead of me, to somewhere I can’t reach, can’t follow, and let’s be honest, don’t even really believe in. He is gone, and it’s just me now. And I don’t like being just me. I feel naked and vulnerable and scared. This is not how my life was supposed to be and I can’t cope with how it has turned out to be. I’m still scared I won’t make it. But I’m still here, and still doing it, so I guess that’s something.
Yes, I had a nice enough night out. I saw friends. I played pool, which is my secret super power. I won more than I should have. I stayed out late. And it all meant f*ck all with no-one to share it with, no-one to be proud of me, no-one to go home and tell about it and to appreciate it all. Hence me msging him I guess. Although if I’d been out, he’d always have been with me. Still… I may have made new friends. I may even end up seeing new people. Matt would have loved them. But he’s not here, and without him? It’s hard to find the motivation to do anything other than go “meh whatever”, and go back to sleep. I don’t want new friends, I want him. I stayed out, I played the game, and then I walked home alone, crying as I went. I guess this is my new normal. It sucks.
I just want him back. It’s all I want, all the time. And I know that is never happening. I am having to learn to negotiate this new bleak world without him. And our story is part of what I have to tell new people I meet. Hi. Yes, I’ve been here x years, I was married, I was divorced, I met my soul mate, and last August I lost him. And now it’s just me and my kids, and life just generally sucks. It’s perky meeting me. Bet you wish you hadn’t asked about my life now. Yet another reason I don’t talk to people. I don’t want to share such a personal part of my life with strangers.
Two years ago I was curled up with Matt, after a bad pain patch, watching a film. I would give anything to turn back time and be back there. He keeps cropping up in my dreams at the moment, and maybe that’s some weird way of him popping by and checking in. Or maybe it isn’t, because they’re just f*cking dreams, and dreams are weird and irrational and make no sense anyway. It’s lovely to see him, to be with him…but sooner or later I have to wake up to the reality that he’s not here. Again. Over and over and over again. And that still kills me every time. Every day I wake up, I realise what real life is, and then I cry a lot, and try and go back to sleep and chase what little of him I have left.
I don’t really have any reason to wake up and get on with stuff tomorrow. It’s really late now, so I have an excuse to sleep in anyway. So yes, I drank too much, stayed up too late, but…I reckon it was worth it for the being out and seeing people and pretending to have a life, even if it isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing from a self-help point of view right now.
This is not a brave new world. It is a scared new world. It is a world I no longer know how to live in. I frequently don’t even want to live in it. But I am still putting one foot in front of the other and hoping, even though I really don’t do hope, that one day it will ease a little. One day I will see a future, and be strong enough to live in it. I hope.
It makes me think of Deadpool 2. When he goes down and sees her, the other side of a barrier he can’t get through. Matt loved those films. He was a soppy sod, and those films made him cry every time. And now he’s the other side of a barrier I can’t get through. I wish I knew/believed. That he could see me now. That he wants the best for me, that he’s looking after me, and waiting for me. But sadly I’m too realistic/pragmatic. But if there’s any chance…please, help me find my way through this. Hold my hand, lead me through the minefield, and help me find my way to a better place. Love you my beautiful boy, just as much, if not more, as I ever did.