Sunday, November 30, 2008

Sometimes at night

Sometimes at night, as I am drifting off to sleep, I can feel his arm around me, the hair from his chest on my back. I used to like to rub his arm, feel the soft hair, play with his fingers. I felt safe there, and I slept better than I ever slept with anyone. There was much that I loved about him. His kindness, his gentleness, his interest in various things. There was much that annoyed me about him, but they were insignificant. I don't know if I had stayed sober if we could have worked out our differences, or if it would have come to a head in a different way. We got off to a bad start, I was already being slowly and methodically crippled by my disease, and he hadn't signed up for that. It was not his problem, nor his burden. I got well briefly, and things were pretty terrific for that short time. I had no idea how thin the ice was that I was walking on. When I fell, I fell hard, and I couldn't get back up. I couldn't pull myself out of the abyss. I've never been in such a dark, hopeless, empty place. Everything that I tried to do to save myself failed. The help sent to me, I rejected wholly. The bargains I made with myself, the illusion I created around me that it wasn't that bad were simply that; stupid bargains and grand illusions. Even now, it's really hard to look at what I did. I put on a brave face, and march forward, brushing off the reality, putting blame where it doesn't belong. But, sometimes at night, when it is just me, I face it simply because it won't let me be. Sometimes at night, my emotions run the entire spectrum of grief. Sometimes at night, I react to those emotions and act stupid. But in the end, sometimes at night, I wonder; will this overwhelming feeling of devastating loss ever lose its power over me?

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