Wearing His Socks
Mar. 10th, 2012 02:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cinema_babe5 years ago yesterday I was sitting in a hospital room holding his hand. He was hanging in a type of suspended animation surrounded by whirring and humming machines whose job it was to keep him alive for another few hours.
5 years ago I couldn't imagine not feeling as if I had been hit in my solar plexus with a baseball bat, I thought that feeling would last forever but it didn't. Today, I am just wistful.
I'm going to sleep tonight wearing his thick woolen socks. I gave away the clothes he kept at my house years ago but I kept the socks. (What can I say, my toes get chilly).
I'll leave you with something I wrote here 5 years ago.
And soon it will be my birthday, and then his birthday, and then Fall and Christmas and he will be dead a year and then a decade and then one day I'll be gone and our most intimate shared memories will go with me.
There are times I feel like a shattered tumbler but I'm not. I'm a chipped glass and time will sand down that jagged edge on the rim and one day I will be filled again to the brim with trust, love and affection to be drunk and I'll drink from vessel of the man I love in return.
I don't have any pithy, clever way to end this except to use Samuel Beckett's words from The Unnamable,
"[I]t will be I, it will be the silence, where I am, I don't know, I'll never know, in the silence you don't know, you must go on, I can't go on,
I'll go on."
I did, dear reader, and I am, and I will.
5 years ago I couldn't imagine not feeling as if I had been hit in my solar plexus with a baseball bat, I thought that feeling would last forever but it didn't. Today, I am just wistful.
I'm going to sleep tonight wearing his thick woolen socks. I gave away the clothes he kept at my house years ago but I kept the socks. (What can I say, my toes get chilly).
I'll leave you with something I wrote here 5 years ago.
And soon it will be my birthday, and then his birthday, and then Fall and Christmas and he will be dead a year and then a decade and then one day I'll be gone and our most intimate shared memories will go with me.
There are times I feel like a shattered tumbler but I'm not. I'm a chipped glass and time will sand down that jagged edge on the rim and one day I will be filled again to the brim with trust, love and affection to be drunk and I'll drink from vessel of the man I love in return.
I don't have any pithy, clever way to end this except to use Samuel Beckett's words from The Unnamable,
"[I]t will be I, it will be the silence, where I am, I don't know, I'll never know, in the silence you don't know, you must go on, I can't go on,
I'll go on."
I did, dear reader, and I am, and I will.
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no subject
Date: 2012-03-10 01:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-12 07:31 pm (UTC)When I met him I felt so damaged and he never tried to fix me but only encouraged me to fix myself. That was another gift, a very personal and intimate one. I would never wish that ending on anyone's relationship but stuff happens in life, it's your choice what you do with it.
I just hope I did okay, I think I did.