Now?

Would now be a good time to tell you how much I love you? I’ve spent two hours at work today talking about how we cope with how things are. I’ve spent a couple of hours at the pub with a cycling friend who’s life is both more interesting and complicated than mine and he’s sleeping on the sofa downstairs (sofa surfing) which was all very pleasant.

Except none of it is. Life isn’t normal. You’re not here. And you’re not going to be. And I know I’m supposed to start learning to adapt to what my new normal is going to be. But I don’t want to. I just want you. So bad. I don’t know how to make it through without my beautiful boy. How the fuck do people survive this?

Pain

Why doesn’t ever tell you how much the grief of losing a soul mate is SO much worse. I have lost grandparents. I have lost best friends. But losing Matt? It’s so far beyond that kind of pain. I am SO lost and so scared and my whole world is falling apart – housework, paperwork accounts, kids, you name it. I don’t know how to do this. I’ve lost my rock and my support and I don’t even want to do it all without him.

How do people live through this.

A while ago Matt and I had a conversation about life and death and all that sort of thing.
And I got a bit emotional because I didn’t want to die, because I quite liked being me, and I didn’t want to stop being me.
Which he thought was very sweet and many hugs ensued.

Not now though.
I don’t want to be alive.
I don’t see the point.
I just don’t have any choice.
My kids…

So all those people telling me time will help, and add distance, and perspective, and that I’ll learn to live with it had better be right.

Or I’m going to be proper fucked off at having wasting years struggling without getting anywhere when I could just check out now and have this awful devastating heartbroken pain be gone. Maybe I’d end up with him, maybe I wouldn’t. But I’m sure as fuck lost as to how to carry on living without him and what we had, however imperfect it may sometimes have been. I can’t envisage anything better than what we had, so why bother?

I have no idea how people live through this.

Inking you

The kids and I got memorial tattoos for Matt today. I’m so used to being there with him I could practically see him there. So many memories of him there, in such a small space. I could hear him and see him and…but not. Ruby didn’t know what to say and John was a legend. He worked with all of us to get what we wanted, he coped when I cried, he gave us shots of rum to help, and even after I’d cried all over everywhere when it came to my turn he coped. He even joined me in a final shot of rum to round it all off. And on top of that, he refused to charge us for any of it – a good 3 hours of his time. I’ve rarely been so touched by anything – it was the sweetest gesture ever. That man has earnt my respect and tattoo loyalty for life.

I just wish I could show it to him. I wish I could show him how much he means to me. I wish…oh so many things. Once more, it was me and my kids against a very horrible world, and we supported each other through and I cried me yet another river, and we all thought of him. I just want Matt to know he is still my star, and I hope he will guide me through what is yet to come in my life. He is so loved by so many people and so many of us are not coping without him. And it’s all too late isn’t it? Everywhere I go he isn’t – from in Pierced Up to sitting outside Zero Degrees having the traditional post ink/hole drink. I just miss him. All the time.

Tomorrow I have to sort through photos for the order of service and for the memory boards at the Oakhouse after (I refuse to call it a wake). And I have so many amazing photos, but all they do is remind me of what I can never have or be again, I’m so far off being able to look back on them as happy memories of a time past. I just want him back. Simples. Except it isn’t, is it?

pedicure

Today I came to see you. All dressed up, and clean. And I painted your toenails, as I wanted to, which has to be one of the most surreal experiences of my life to date. But that was just functional. Albeit essential. And purple.

And then I was allowed some time with you. I wish I could say you looked absent. You didn’t, not enough anyway. You just looked asleep. Holding your hand was still your hand, even it if was a cold hand. When I hugged you, you still filled the same space in my arms, and in my heart. You were still too much you whilst not being you at all. I just wanted to stay there with you forever, and yet I still had to leave.

I’m really struggling with how to keep doing this. All my friends and family, all the visits and the company and support…and all I want to be is with you. I’ll be back to visit next week, and I don’t care how unhealthy that might be. I’m never going to be ready to let go of you, so I’m going to hold on for as long as I can. Cos once that curtain closes, that will be it. And I don’t want it to be. I can’t hold hands with ashes. I’d almost rather this go on for much longer. If I could just check in from time to time? I’m really not ready for that final step. And fuck the word closure.

In the meantime if you’re listening, what the fuck have you done with your bicycle chain bracelet? I can’t find it anymore, and the longer I can’t find it, the more important it seems.

Just so as you know – I love you. I have never loved anyone the way I love you, and I never will.

How does something mental hurt so much?

Very briefly, at the end of the day, when I’m tired enough I think I’ll sleep, and I’m as “up” as I get, just because I know I’ve made it through another day, and it hasn’t yet started all over again…

…and I’m sifting through Deezer, looking for some tracks I’ve thought of, that I’d like to have played at his funeral, having spent a couple of hours talking to his mum about plans and arrangements. How the fuck is this even a thing?

I know you’re not here, and you’re not listening, and you never will be. But I love you so fucking much, and I miss you so fucking much, and I didn’t know it was possible to hurt this much, and to be so lost, and so broken, and so numb, and so fragile, and so…so many things, so much, so much all at the same time. The only thing I want in the whole wide world is for you to be back here with me, and that’s never going to happen. There are so many questions, and answers yet to come, and worlds full of what if, and none of them make a blind bit of difference really, because the end result is the same. You’ve gone. You’re never coming back. There’s this fucking massive hole where you were, and it’s inside me and it’s around me and it’s everywhere, and everything is just shit.

And every day I wake up it hits me all over again, and right now I’m tired, and I need to sleep, but I don’t want to, because I know that tomorrow isn’t going to be any better.

My beautiful boy is gone, and everything is broken, and will never be the same again.