Wednesday, March 3, 2010
It has really been a strange day. I have been running through the past few weeks without really looking around. I get so overwhelmed and frustrated when I do that, somehow, I've been able to avoid it. But today, due to the fact that it is the ONLY thing I will solidly schedule, I went back to my counselor. I went there thinking I had nothing to talk about and left without talking about anything new.
"Let's explore these bad dreams..." was all she needed to say. Lately I have been feeling so numb, unable to cry even if I try. I still feel sad and grieve, but I can't let myself get moved to tears. I can't let myself. And somehow sitting there on that stupid couch, where for no reason at all I feel completely compelled to share everything, I welled up in tears. "I worry about what he went through. What he thought. What he felt." Suddenly I couldn't breathe. Damn you, couch. I remember (reluctantly) when the men were at our house that morning. I couldn't think much or talk about it until someone got there, someone from my side, which turned out to be Kim, followed by my parents, followed by nothing I actually remember. After they told me what I was dreading hearing, I remember my first thought: Did you really just tell me that on our porch. Really? And my second thought, which I expressed to them, the only thing I really said relating to Mike while they were here. "Do you think he knew? I hope he didn't know..." Bless his heart, the older one said that it sounds like Mike had no idea. He didn't know what happened, all he knew was who I was and that my fiancee was gone.
That's all I said. I offered them some water, like a little hostess at a party or something. "Do you guys need something to drink?" And the one man kept trying to tell me how things would proceed. He obviously didn't get that I was waiting until someone got there. Just let someone get here, and see that this is absurd, and they will fix it. Mom and Dad can fix it. Surely his parents can fix it. Maybe Kim, once she gets here, will clear everything up. I'll call Katie, she'll know what's going on.
And then I don't remember. Kim got here, I blathered on, the men left, mom and dad got here, the Medders got here... everyone kept hugging. I think I showered. But I have no idea what the time frame for the next few days is. I was just there. Every morning I woke up, it would hit me like a freaking house and I would think that there is no way it could be true. He would never leave me. It just wasn't possible. I have little memories of the next few days, walking around in the Medders back yard, talking to Amanda about how we could actually see the future, the wedding, our kids playing together. Not eating, Mom making milkshakes and scrambled eggs, Justina tying that yellow ribbon on my wrist, Dad and Matt hanging a flag over the balcony. I can't put any of these events in a particular order. Katie getting there, Justina getting there, picking a plot at the cemetery, eating a ham like I hadn't been fed in days (umm or just hadn't eaten anything). Shaking, I was shaking all the time. I was cold, people gave me blankets and sweatshirts. I have never cared less to hear what people had to say, I've never before actually stopped listening when people were talking.
I fought tooth and nail to keep from getting used to this life I wake up in everyday now. This life decided to drag me, with my heals stuck straight into the ground, away from those days, and toward whatever. Whatever the heck I'm headed toward I don't know. How do I head toward something, when I've tried not to, and not move away from him? I don't know the logical answer, except that he's the other part of my soul. And when you have that other part in a person, I guess you can keep it. I can't keep it physically, and in all the ways we planned, but it's still here. The way that I feel isn't changing and I have complete confidence in him, knowing how I feel.
(Wow that was quite a tangent- if you made it all the way through, here's your cookie!)
Posted by Stacey at 9:32 PM