Grief Sessions

So I had another session yesterday.

I feel more in control. A little sick that I will soon be saying five months. Christmas scares me, but like a lot of things in my life that feel unknown or unresolved, I can’t deal with them right now.

I feel like I have been waiting for a sign from you that I did you right on your way down the road. My grief volunteer, suggested I would know if I saw it. Perhaps I would see sick n sin someplace, etc. Yeah, that didn’t happen. But the amount of times I have heard your name, Melissa in the last two weeks has to be something more than chance. One of the times, the person talking about her Melissa, describes you to a mother fucking t. I started bawling. She didn’t really know what she was saying was slapping me like Japanese Karp inviting themselves on-board.

I ditched the permethrin cream now that Mr. Yummy is all clear and went for the pill. I didn’t really think the cream would work because I was misdiagnosed for a good month. Those bad boys were settling in with a vigor.  I also couldn’t get a pill prescribed for him without him seeing my doctor and the cream comes in a two serving size. I ate my pill last night. 4 of them. The really fucked up side effect: itching. I also have a head ache, feel like barfing, and my insides feel poorly.

One good laugh deserves another.

You died with these. Four of us are confirmed with the parasites. You just died before symptoms manifested. Isn’t that fucked up? To the very end, we were in it together.

I’m not at peace, but I am not falling apart hourly anymore. I feel a little tougher, a lot less raw. That raw was something I have never known. I guess it is all just part of totally loving you, then losing you.

I never saw that coming. I am now touched with the knowledge that anyone can die. Anytime. I am so lucky we said I love you the last time we spoke. That you squeezed my hand when I asked if you could feel me holding your hand. That you kissed me good-bye. So lucky. In the context of you dying. I’d rather be smoking and drinking coffee on the phone, listening to one another talk about life.

I do miss you. I have never gone this long without talking to you on the phone. Even when your cell was shut off here and there. Even when I was in Alaska. The 24th of each month will remind me of our last call. Ever. I also know that some of this void, pain, sadness, hurt…will never go all the way away. There is an odd comfort with Danolyn right now, because he lost his Mel. He gets what it is like to be in my shoes. A truly fucked up comfort in his having a dead g/f. She shot herself. He told me his thoughts after. He gets my sadness, anger, need for help. I don’t have to fake it to make him comfortable and I love him for that. THAT, is a friend. But, and thank god for this, he’s not you.

Well Girl, this laundry isn’t doing itself.

Sick n Sin


About iwentcrazy

I am very, very, very average. And very, very, very lucky.

Posted on April 30, 2015, in grief and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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