Sunday, June 9, 2013

Pi Time

My fundraising for school is going well. I'm at the halfway point and hope to leave in about 3 weeks.
I'll have more to say on that later.

Tomorrow morning I again do my best to contact DES and have a long appointment with my Hospice counselor to talk about some of my issues leaving for Israel, leaving Wash/TARDIS "home", leaving my sweet kitties...
It's a lot.
Aelphie has been my animal companion since I lived alone as an adult. I know she is getting older, she has some grey now on her, but I still see her as my little girl. It's hard for me to think of being away from her comfort for the summer. It's hard for me to think of what she might be feeling while I am gone. To them, Wash was here and then he was gone. I don't know how to explain to them I'm coming back.
Leto, well, he's my baby boy. He is the last living connection to my husband I have. I'll never have his children, but we had Leto. He had Leto. And Leto lost his dad. The human he loved most. Now I'll be leaving him too. I'm coming back, but how will they know?

It's hard to think about. I can't help but cry. When I was so alone, the house empty but me, my family all busy with their own lives, my friends not close enough to comfort, or not able to be there... my cats were there for me. They let me hold them for hours while I just sobbed. They purred in my lap. They slept in the bed, making it feel less empty- less alone.

I'll be without them.

And I want this. I want this chance. I need to do this. I need to go.

But it hurts.
It hurts to not know. It hurts to know I will be so far away, without my support, without the few living things that love me around. I know Wash would want me to go. I know.

I'm afraid of something happening and I cannot be there.

I've been trying to work on a "normal" or regular sleep schedule, but the stress is making it hard. So much to do, but no real routine to help me function to do it.
I've been able to catch 03:14 on the clock every 12 hours for the last full week or two.
I see it and I say "Happy 3:14" or "Happy Pi minute my Love". Wash made a point for as long as he could remember to, to tell me that everyday- at 3:14(am/pm).
"This way, every single day can be our anniversary."

I miss him. I miss his voice. I miss his hugs. I miss his love. I miss his jokes- all of them, I miss him telling the stories he told over and over.
I'm not good at saying "Good-bye". I'm not. I don't think I ever will be.
So leaving is hard. Knowing it will be months before I see my friends again. My family. Being around people who love me, or my pets who do.

I apologize if this is incoherent. I am mostly just sobbing and crying tonight.

It has been a while since I have had the flashbacks, since they were uncontrolled. They are coming again. That night, over and over. The day he went into the hospital, over and over. The months of warning signs all flashing before me. The questions, always plaguing, 'Could I have done more?' 'What if?' 'Did I do everything I could have?'

The biggest one. The most evil. The one that never really fades, or really goes quiet.
"Was there a chance I could have saved him? Was there a way to avoid his cancer? Why did I not see it so much sooner? How much of this pain is mine to bear?"

The question that I will never really be able to answer; "What happens now?"

I never thought I would be a Widow this young. I'm angry, because when we got engaged, he promised- swore he would let me die first. I know it's not exactly something he could really promise, but I hate it all the same. I hate the loss. I hate the Silence now. I hate how empty my bed feels. I hate having to cook for one, not two. I hate that I am entombed with his things, his life, but not him. 
I miss being held by my husband. I miss my best friend. I miss him so much. It is more than a void, it is my own self, my own soul, broken in half and gone. Not missing, gone. Not lost, gone.
He made me better, and left.
He left me.

That hurts. "Pain" is not a comprehensive enough word for this. English has no real word for the feeling of desertion by way of grief.
I miss having a reason to smile. Something to be happy about. Someone.

There is no potion. No drug. Nothing instantaneous. No wave of a wand, or hat-trick.
Time does not ease the pain, the hurt. My wound may not bleed as much now, but time makes it grow deeper, makes it into a keloid scar- ever growing, not healing.

I was stronger with him. Better.
I just feel so small and helpless right now.
I am so very tired. I feel I should be nearing the end of my life, not the start of my adulthood.
I've lived so much already.

I miss my Love. I miss our Love. I miss being loved.

I miss being loved.

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