12 Months.
January 12th, 2012 § 2 Comments
I didn’t learn about your death until the 15th. But it happened one year ago today.
Even now, I still have questions about what your last moments were like. Questions I would never share publicly.
It’s an awful day; horrible, difficult, uncomfortable. I’m irritable in my sadness, too bleak to desire doing anything specific, and yet I don’t want time to move forward without some sacred action. (The beach again?)
The loneliness of my grief is wearing (“to wear: to damage, erode, or destroy by friction or use”).
It took until just the other night for me to begin to accept — not your death, I won’t accept that, no – the solitary nature of this predicament. I’ve been craving contact with anyone who can or will tell me they understand, that they feel the same thing. Finally, I’m beginning to realize how impossible that is.
Besides, it’s not solidarity I really want. It’s your life: for you to be alive.
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There is no way for me to convey how much these posts mean to me. Your writing on this subject (in particular) is very raw and brave and I am so drawn to it.
I’ve never met you but I love you and my heart breaks for you.
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EG, your comment came through to my phone just as I was walking out to the beach at sunset…it helped so much. Thank you 1000x.
I guess…that feeling never changes. It always feels kind of unreal.
I love you, and I wish I could just go and hug you real close to me.
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Antara, your notes mean so much to me. Thank you, sweet one. xoR