And I failed. When things got tough, I stopped. I didn't write, I wasn't honest about the good times.
Things are held together and breaking apart.
It's monumentally hard. I set out to do this, I did take on his full care. It's exhausting. Frankly, just so tiring.
To hear the same things over and over, to live the exact same day over and over for him. Things change and he backslides. I deal. Everyone wants money. The bills never stop. But I have no income, he can't work literally, and I cannot either. I can't leave him alone.
It worries me. Constantly.
I watched the bees in my garden this morning. Moving the pollen around, making sure my crops will come in nicely this fall. I'm happy.
But the thought that occurred to me whilst I was out there was this, everything I have tried to change in my life, all the running, the studying, the learning, the observing...
It's all lead me right back around in one big circle.
I think I am crying inside constantly. Never ceasing waves of tears. Railing against the unfairness of life. Which, is really what life is. It's not fair and it changes. That's all that ever stays the same.
I can hope I can hold onto the love that brought me here. I can take my time in the garden to think, to remember. But all the while, my reality is back a hundred steps from me, lying in pain in bed trying to stay alive while he is poisoned from his brain out.
He is my reality. He was my reason for life, liberty, and everything.
I miss that man. Some days I miss him so much. I miss my best friend. I miss the guy I could cuddled up with until 2am watching Sci-Fi movies. I miss the plans for our future.
See, I'm not in the "lucky" group that has a child. I don't have any part of him to go on. I don't have a part of me to go on after. The familial support we do have comes from extended members and even then, there is no real help or reliability. It's just all on me. And frankly, no Government wants to help.
I think the thing I hate seeing more than him dying is watching him die in utter poverty. As if getting cancer at 25 wasn't enough. As if getting brain cancer at 25 was not enough. As if getting a very quick and terminal brain cancer at 25 was not enough pain... die in utter poverty too.
Reader.... would you want this for yourself? Honestly?
Would you want to die wondering if it might happen before the next bill is due and you then die homeless too?
I can sell my body. I can sell the extra 13" tv we have. I can sell the two bicycles in our backyard.
I have nothing else. He owns my heart and my time, and my loyalty.
There are glorious moments of happiness, true. And those are what keeps me going. For all the life of pain I lead by watching him fight this, by watching the cancer eat up the person I love more than myself... there are moments of pure beauty and utter human compassion.
There are days when I wonder, when I ponder what is to happen to me next, after this ends. See, I'm almost in my mid twenties now. There are so many "shoulds" I am told society is expecting of me. And I cannot meet them.
I cannot get married to someone for 60 years anymore. I know the true expiration date is much shorter.
I cannot ever have children. It will not happen naturally. We cannot afford $20,000.00 of fertility treatments and rounds. There are very very very few adoption agencies that will let a single woman adopt- and I do not have a job or degree to my name. Just medical debt. Even fewer places will want to put a child into the home of someone who is actively dying.
Future looks real bright for me, eh?
There are times when I try to think ahead and all I can see are clouds. A thick fog permeating everything, calling and forming shapes but no real indication of what the reality is.
My darkest days I look ahead and I see nothingness. Not for me, just, but...
I know how smart I am. I know my endurance. I know my internal resistance.
And I worry, I truly do, that when he goes, I will take the world with me. It is one of my largest fears dear Reader.
Without Wash around, who will stop me?
I will come back to muddle more on this.