The pain of losing your significant other isn't like any other pain experienced. My little sister, Kelli, passed away in 1995. My Grandma Pauline passed away several years ago. My Uncle Gregg passed away last week, though we weren't close to each other. And I've lost pets that I have loved dearly as if they were my children; I just lost my best boy, Bear, last week. He was between 13 - 15 years old. With each loss, I have suffered...some more intensely, some less intensely. But NOTHING has compared to the severe anguish experienced when I lost Alfonso. It has altered my world to something even I'm not familiar with. A world were pain is the base feeling, and other emotions, positive or negative, stack on top of that, but never alleviates or buries it. It is ALWAYS present at any given moment.
Even with a new romance with a wonderful, considerate, and loving guy, "M", the pain still exists, and he does his best to soothe me as much as he can. Maybe in time it'll ease up or fade, but I can only take people's word for it, because I see no hope in sight. I hate how this incident with Alfonso has warped everything of a 'normal' life...everyday living, romance, what innocence that was left..........nothing is as it was inside or out.
I've been putting off writing in this blog for over 2 months; maybe it's been longer. I try to avoid activities that remind me of Alfonso's absence, whether it be blogging about him (even when I have things to get out of my head), packing and removing some of his items from what was once "our" home, but now that is only "my" home (I have such a hard time acknowledging that), attending bereavement support group meetings. All things that ideally could help me emotionally, I want to hide from, because if I do these activities, it's another confirmation that he's gone. My head is still not able to grasp the concept of a world without his mortal existence.
I was on the east coast, with family, so that I wouldn't have to be home for the holidays. I came back home on Valentine's Day...how about the irony of that one! I didn't mean to even book the flight for that day, but I accidentally did, which I guess worked out for the best considering I spent most of the day flying, and it kept my brain distracted most of the time. But since then I have been back home where the nightmare began and my altered universe initiated. I have slept on the couch in the living room every single night. I've tried to work my way back into our.....my..... bedroom, and even into the other bedroom (where we've slept on different occasions), but to no avail, I feel like I start crumbling as soon as I make the attempt. My stomach gets tied in knots and I get very nauseous...my heart starts beating in overdrive...my respiration increases...my head starts pounding....just a very bad reaction every time. Every little household task that I used to take for granted is now like a dull, serrated dagger being twisted & dug into my body. Whenever I do dishes, laundry, vacuum, go to the grocery store, cook....anything related to being a "housewife" (or as I liked to joke with Alfonso, I was a "domestic goddess"), it's an excruciating task. I really loved the emotion that came with feeling like I was taking care of my man & our home. He was always so appreciative when the house looked great or when I cooked him a meal (which was often.....the cooking, that is...not so much always the cleaning). So I guess over time, I associated his responses with completing the task. And now I guess I subconsciously am looking for that 'reward' or acknowledgement, but...........there's no one here to give that to me. I worry that this response inside of me will never go away. I worry that it'll always stir up so much suffering inside of me every time I do a petty little household task. I don't want to spend the rest of my life feeling like this.
I still feel like an amputee; an integral part of my body is missing. As of April 4th, two days ago, it's been 5 months since the day that he passed away. Wow....FIVE FUCKING MONTHS?? I literally can't make any sense out of that. To think that I have gone 5 months since the last time I placed my lips on his warm hand to kiss him "goodnight". And then 5 months, minus 10 days, since the last time I heard his voice....when we spoke....when we looked into each others' eyes....when.............................the beginning of the end commenced. God, how I miss him so much!! I find myself in a terrible emotional battle that guilts me every single day; which logically, I know that I shouldn't feel any guilt. But emotionally, I'm completely irrational. You see, "M" is such an amazing individual; he has restored so much happiness back into my life, and he is completely supportive of my feelings and understands my undying love for Alfonso. I feel so fortunate that I can be that intimate with him and talk about my feelings when I'm missing Alfonso. I feel so safe and sound when I turn to him. But here it is, I would give ANYTHING in the world to bring Alfonso back....ANYTHING. But yet..............I wouldn't trade a thing if that meant I had to give up "M". This is what I meant earlier when I said that I'll never be able to have a "normal" romantic relationship, because it is plagued with guilt. And I know in my heart that Alfonso would never want me to feel guilty or unhappy. It was always so important to him to live life to the fullest and to be as happy as one could be. But if I logically know and understand this, then why can't I emotionally accept it? I suppose there is a part of me that blames myself for his death, and perhaps I'm just not ready to forgive myself yet. At least, if I was a 3rd party hearing this story, that would be my opinion on all of it. Too bad we can't take our own advice as easily as we can give it out.
What I yearn for now is just some sort of resemblance of normalcy. I'd love to experience a day of pure happiness once again....guilt-free...agony-free........just pure joy. I want to be able to love another man, "M", without a looming shadow of pain and guilt. I want to go to the Farmer's Market, enjoy the light breeze and the beautiful sunny day and just be happy to be alive in that moment. I want to be able to walk into my closet to pick out an outfit and not break out in tears and fall apart every single time I step in there. I just want what I once had.......peace of mind. I fear that I'll never have that again, not in a complete sense, anyhow. At this moment, I just can't foresee a day that will go by that I'm not mourning. I don't foresee ever feeling complete once again. Maybe it's too soon to see all of this; I don't know. I hope I'm wrong, because I don't want to exist another 40 or 60 years with this agony festering inside of me each and every single day. I've had people tell me that one day I'll be able to look back on my memories with Alfonso and feel happy. How do you do that? How is that even possible? People tell me, "hold onto the memories". WHY? It only hurts me more when I remember stuff; I'd rather have amnesia and be numb than to suffer like this. Maybe it's the grief talking.
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| Circa 2007 or 2008 - One of many of Alfonso's homecomings. He was away on business for, I think, over 4 weeks on this occasion. I was so happy to see him. |
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