Saturday, August 23, 2003
Tonight I went to a birthday party for Dave thrown by his boyfriend Jeff. And on the long drive back I started thinking about what happened a year ago. I was sitting at this computer when He came into the room and said "I have something I need to talk to you about." I looked up and asked, "Is it something serious?" And he replied, "Well, it may be." We went into the bedroom and sitting on that expensive bed that I bought to make him happy he told me he was leaving.
To say that I was surprised would be stating the case mildly. There were no overt clues, no fights, nothing on the surface that I could have used to predict that this would happen. It was unbelievable. And a year later the horrible pain still sometimes makes my heart ache. My best friend, the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, didn't love me enough to sort through his problems and stay.
Although he would deny it, he had all of the power at that moment. He made the decision to go, to pack up the clothes I picked out for him, the artwork, the this and that collected over five years. I spent most of the time sobbing, my mind abnormal. I had to go see a psychologist, took wretched pills for a while that made me yawn and want to vomit. At work the receptionist couldn't figure out why I no longer smiled. The holidays were horrible. At times I wished I would never have to see him again. At other times all I wanted was to have him back.
A year later I still miss him. Miss the conversations about silly things, the feeling of trust and security that meant less to him that it did for me. As I sit in front of the computer tonight I wonder if I will ever have those feelings again.
Strange skies over Tucson.
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To say that I was surprised would be stating the case mildly. There were no overt clues, no fights, nothing on the surface that I could have used to predict that this would happen. It was unbelievable. And a year later the horrible pain still sometimes makes my heart ache. My best friend, the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, didn't love me enough to sort through his problems and stay.
Although he would deny it, he had all of the power at that moment. He made the decision to go, to pack up the clothes I picked out for him, the artwork, the this and that collected over five years. I spent most of the time sobbing, my mind abnormal. I had to go see a psychologist, took wretched pills for a while that made me yawn and want to vomit. At work the receptionist couldn't figure out why I no longer smiled. The holidays were horrible. At times I wished I would never have to see him again. At other times all I wanted was to have him back.
A year later I still miss him. Miss the conversations about silly things, the feeling of trust and security that meant less to him that it did for me. As I sit in front of the computer tonight I wonder if I will ever have those feelings again.
Strange skies over Tucson.
