Thinking... ruminating... obsessing... judging.... condemning.... forgiving... repeat. Age old story... Stuck and then... it's a beautiful day. Been down with pneumonia since diagnosed on January 27th but truthfully, it's been longer than that. Exhaustion has plagued me and yet, I chose to ignore it until I couldn't. Right now, while typing this; I'm obsessing about the length of my fingernails... makes it impossible to play piano or guitar (course it'd be more important if I could really play either)... but then, I have both instruments and I'd like to try so, guess I'll be cutting these beauties soon...
Lots of solitary time due to the pandemic and pneumonia which reinforces the feeling of loss... perhaps a lapse into grieving for the life of togetherness which ceased 7.5 years ago. When we were together we could conquer anything... the plurality of 2 meant there was always support... back up... strength... love... romance... conversation... debate... drama... comedy... music... politics and that underlying feeling of importance. WE mattered... our existence was real... Death tore the foundation of who WE were and shook up my understanding of who I am. Alone, unfettered by constraints of obligation to another I slipped into anonymity... I grappled with why I was doomed to oneness again after 21 years of together.... of belonging. Grieving for what was rather than accepting what is.
Life after death is tricky... succumbing to the acceptance of widowhood... a terrible club whose admittance is obligatory and damn cruel. I've survived but the plurality of 2 hasn't. Was it somehow my fault? Did I push too hard? Did I push him away? Reality is just that. I am alone again. Acceptance is tough but necessary... after all there's no going back. Welcome to the abyss...
Here I am.... deciding what direction to go in.... writing may help the transition... Who knows? Can't hurt!
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