I’ve never in my life been an angry person, but anger has become my bosom buddy. It’s always so close, just under the surface…ready to grab me by the throat at the least provocation. Or more accurately, make me want to grab someone else by the throat. Or ram them with my Jeep when they’re going 10 kph under the speed limit in the fast lane.
As I said in an earlier entry, dealing with things that were previously Stephen’s job makes me angry. And oh, so resentful. We had a contract – we were supposed to grow old together. While he did technically live up to part of that contract – ’til death do us part – it wasn’t supposed to be so fucking soon! How dare he leave me alone, he promised he wouldn’t ever do that. He promised me, and he broke that promise. I know it’s irrational, believe me I know. I’m just not a rational person these days. I’ve accepted that, and it is sort of freeing, giving myself permission to be crazy.
As I work my way through the grieving process, I’m meant to find a way to integrate it into my being…I will be forever different from the person I was. I resent that too. I like the person that was Stephen’s wife. I grew up, I blossomed under his loving gaze. I became the best possible version of myself…he gave me the space and freedom to be exactly me. He adored every neurotic tic. That person I was is gone, irretrievably. I’ll be different, on the other side, and that saddens me.
I’m not yet at the point where I’m looking forward to seeing what the future holds. I’m told that will come, and I suppose it’s true. But where I’m sitting now seems like Everest base camp, an impossibly high mountain to tackle looming over me. In working my way through the stages of grief, I seem to be cycling through them, revisiting stages, and acceptance seems like a mirage in the desert. All I know is, my future doesn’t have him in it, so I’m in absolutely no hurry to get there. I may even be fighting it off as hard as I can. Maybe I should look at that a bit more closely? I’m told that he will always be with me, love never dies…BLAH BLAH BLAH.
While I do believe his love will be with me always, it’s not the same as being able to put my arms around him, or kiss his bald spot, or attempt to braid the hair on his chest while we cuddle. And I resent that, deeply.