Nine Months

I never knew it could hurt so badly and so long to lose you. Had I known, would I have done our life differently? Maybe. I don’t know. How can one answer that question? There’s no go backs. There’s no second chance that I know of.

Tonight, I have cried so hard my lips swelled, my throat hurts, my eyes can’t focus on this screen. I have sobbed for nine months. Wept, wailed, hated myself, cared for myself, evaded with alcohol and cigarettes, dealt in therapy, given into prescriptions to numb me in a socially acceptable way, called out to you in silence, begged you from across the table, prayed, cursed. Still, I am lost. Still, I miss you every day. Still, I wonder what became of your heart.

How did our souls get ripped apart in the blink of an eye?

I washed the last shirt that smelled like you yesterday. Nine months later. Pathetic, huh? It stayed up in my closet. Why you left that one and not the one my dad gave me is beyond me. I have them both back now, but the other one I washed immediately because it smelled of some cheap cologne you tried to wear. Something you donned for some other woman, no doubt. I don’t care about her. She was your numb.

I am so incredibly lonely. I play the part of good mama, recovering sister, sweet daughter, attentive friend, compassionate ex. Inside, I am wishing for the end. I am wishing to understand the lesson that was you.  I am wishing for the sun to shine and me to feel its warmth again. Or not.

Sometimes, I just wish you never happened.

But there are no second chances that I know of. I am stuck with the knowledge that I have loved and lost. No one else has taken me to this place for so long. No one has taken me to heaven and hell in such a short amount of time. No one has given me so much, just to rip it from me.

I am lost. Even my physical body is a slight reflection of its former self. The curves are gone. New pants; now twice in three months. I don’t know what I am doing here, on this planet. I am unsure of my purpose or the lessons I am to learn. I am wandering aimlessly, robotically.

Numb, except some nights. The nights I wonder where your heart went.

Where did always go? I can’t believe you lied. If I believe you lied, then I believe that I fell for your lies, that our life was lie. And to believe that would be worse than the hell I am feeling now. But not to believe that means that you just stopped loving me. And to believe that means that I was unworthy of love. What’s worse?

Remember?

Do you remember that story we were going to tell out grand babies? That one about how we met? I'll remind you because you seem to have forgotten that our love ever existed.

It was Christmas night 2008.

"Come meet my new girlfriend!", my bestie in that time said to me.

I walked into Misty's and there you were. Looking straight at me. Or rather into me. Our souls connected in a split second of fate. I saw you. I saw love. I saw my future. I saw your past. The only thing I didn't see were the demons you fought so hard to keep away. Those came just months later. I loved you from the moment I saw you.

I looked away as fast as you could bore into my soul.

Five months and two breakups later, I invited you on a hike. Your smoker's body was slow, sick, and so perfect to me. You lumbered along the trail, our hiking companions became frustrated and left us behind. You and I laughing. You and I taking pictures. You and I trying hard (not) to touch. You and I watching the sunset on Camelback Mountain.

That Philosophy paper weighed heavy on my mind, but so did dinner. You cooked; potatoes and onions. I existentialized. You drank beer. I marveled at how many you put down. You stayed the night. We didn't touch.

The next day, your truck battery was dead. That red truck took us to so many places. Alaska, camping, home, your move, my move, ins and outs, then finally to your sperm donor in Minnesota. It's bum battery gave me that moment I needed to kiss the physical body of the other half of my soul. That kiss was perfect. There was no urgency because it knew forever. After our respective obligations, we were together for the night. "No funny business," I said. I didn't stick to that. You made love to me.

There was that first real date. The train to Tempe. My third favorite picture of us, our first together. Too late to catch the train back. We had to call a friend for a ride.

Later that month, we camped with the boys, my boys became our boys. That love was so natural. Watching you parent was so beautiful.

And now, you don't talk to me. You dropped all of your other bests too. My soul has been torn in two again. The pain is unbearable. My heart beats because it has to.

Do you remember walking into love with me? Do you remember ALWAYS? Do you remember how to love? Do you remember me? Do you remember our family?