On Two Months (10/1/18)
Dear Daddy,
I think it's finally starting to hit me. It's been two months without you. Its been two months since I got to hold your hand, kiss your forehead, and talk to you. It's been over two months since you saw me walking into your hospital room. Over two months since we watched The Three Stooges. It's almost three months since I heard your voice, assuring me I'd be stuck with you for 50 more years. It's been over three months since our last family dinner, and last family photo.
It's so hard to explain how I'm feeling. Remember my relationship in Baltimore that ended badly? How that felt like my heart was being stomped on, I was being stabbed in the back, and my whole world was unraveling around me? I lost friends, my reputation was being trashed, and my general mood was depressed. I cried so much. I did everything I could to make myself feel better. Therapy, dance, jiu-jitsu, muay thai, work, even 12 step programs I most certainly didn't fit in with (although they were helpful), anything to figure out how to fix it and myself. That's who I am. I want to fix things. You and I have that in common.
Through it all, you had my back. You didn't coddle me, but you also listened to my sobs and rhetorical questions. You gave it to me straight, "he's not coming back" and "if he does, it wont be for a long time and you wont want him then". That was a hard truth to swallow. But you were right. He didn't come back for a long time, and when he did, I didn't want him.
I would not have made if through that break-up without you. A lot of friends played huge roles is helping me grow and heal, and I don't want to downplay all of their amazing support by any means. They know who they are, and they know how appreciative I am. But I don't think I ever said anything to you about it. You and mom were the ones that caught me when I fell, and helped patch me up so I was good as new. Even better, probably.
In some ways, losing you reminds me of the feelings I had at the end of that relationship. The loss, the heartbreak. I thought I was in love. My world was crumbling around me. The feeling of losing you is so close to the feeling of "losing" this person in Baltimore, except this love is much stronger, and real and you are actually lost.
In a way, by going through such a heartbreaking and emotional time with me, and coaching me through it, you prepped me for this day (and days like it). It's like I got a practice run at grieving someone I loved. Imagining a world without them, learning to get by, working on myself, focusing on the things that brought me joy. And when it got too hard, and mom wasn't helping, you'd be there.
Now it's the real thing. I know what you would say to me, and I know what I need to do. But the tears keep coming. This situation doesn't have a "maybe he will come back" to hold out hope for when the days were really bad and I regressed. There is no light at the end of the tunnel, or goal I am working towards.
I know that you would want me to be happy. But I'm not. And it makes me upset that I am not happy. I'm trying, though. Therapy, painting, knitting, yoga, work, friends, and I start a grief support group in November. But I just want to hear your voice, hear those gears going in your head while I word vomit my emotions, I don't know how to get through a situation like this without you.
So, I guess this letter doesn't really have any conclusion. I just miss you, and I wish this wasn't happening. I'm sorry I am so miserable and cry every night. I'm sorry I am so upset and sobbing everywhere. I'm sorry I can't be strong enough to make it through the workday without crying. I can't believe this is my life. Please come back.
I love you,
Alexa
I think it's finally starting to hit me. It's been two months without you. Its been two months since I got to hold your hand, kiss your forehead, and talk to you. It's been over two months since you saw me walking into your hospital room. Over two months since we watched The Three Stooges. It's almost three months since I heard your voice, assuring me I'd be stuck with you for 50 more years. It's been over three months since our last family dinner, and last family photo.
It's so hard to explain how I'm feeling. Remember my relationship in Baltimore that ended badly? How that felt like my heart was being stomped on, I was being stabbed in the back, and my whole world was unraveling around me? I lost friends, my reputation was being trashed, and my general mood was depressed. I cried so much. I did everything I could to make myself feel better. Therapy, dance, jiu-jitsu, muay thai, work, even 12 step programs I most certainly didn't fit in with (although they were helpful), anything to figure out how to fix it and myself. That's who I am. I want to fix things. You and I have that in common.
Through it all, you had my back. You didn't coddle me, but you also listened to my sobs and rhetorical questions. You gave it to me straight, "he's not coming back" and "if he does, it wont be for a long time and you wont want him then". That was a hard truth to swallow. But you were right. He didn't come back for a long time, and when he did, I didn't want him.
I would not have made if through that break-up without you. A lot of friends played huge roles is helping me grow and heal, and I don't want to downplay all of their amazing support by any means. They know who they are, and they know how appreciative I am. But I don't think I ever said anything to you about it. You and mom were the ones that caught me when I fell, and helped patch me up so I was good as new. Even better, probably.
In some ways, losing you reminds me of the feelings I had at the end of that relationship. The loss, the heartbreak. I thought I was in love. My world was crumbling around me. The feeling of losing you is so close to the feeling of "losing" this person in Baltimore, except this love is much stronger, and real and you are actually lost.
In a way, by going through such a heartbreaking and emotional time with me, and coaching me through it, you prepped me for this day (and days like it). It's like I got a practice run at grieving someone I loved. Imagining a world without them, learning to get by, working on myself, focusing on the things that brought me joy. And when it got too hard, and mom wasn't helping, you'd be there.
Now it's the real thing. I know what you would say to me, and I know what I need to do. But the tears keep coming. This situation doesn't have a "maybe he will come back" to hold out hope for when the days were really bad and I regressed. There is no light at the end of the tunnel, or goal I am working towards.
I know that you would want me to be happy. But I'm not. And it makes me upset that I am not happy. I'm trying, though. Therapy, painting, knitting, yoga, work, friends, and I start a grief support group in November. But I just want to hear your voice, hear those gears going in your head while I word vomit my emotions, I don't know how to get through a situation like this without you.
So, I guess this letter doesn't really have any conclusion. I just miss you, and I wish this wasn't happening. I'm sorry I am so miserable and cry every night. I'm sorry I am so upset and sobbing everywhere. I'm sorry I can't be strong enough to make it through the workday without crying. I can't believe this is my life. Please come back.
I love you,
Alexa
Peace
ReplyDelete