Ever since I moved into my new apartment, I’ve been feeling more alive than I have in quite a bit of time. Since last May when George started showing signs of serious illness, my life has been this ongoing downward spiral. When people complain about the small details of their lives being rough, I just want to shake them by the shoulders and say, “have you ever watched the one person who makes you feel whole deteriorate from cancer? I don’t care if someone cut you off on the highway.”
Today I lived once again with a heavy heart. I woke up this morning feeling off, I went to cycle class with a chip on my shoulder, and when I came home to shower I just lost it. Walking into the quiet apartment, no one to greet me besides Bodie, no one to carry on a conversation, it’s really lonely. Painfully lonely. For a bit of time I was feeling all right with being alone, but now I’m starting to feel the burn of loneliness once again. I’m worried that it will consume me. And I’m doing my best to fend it off, but sometimes it’s a wave in this sea of grief that cannot be avoided and just has be stared down until it comes and goes.
I’ve gained hobbies, but it doesn’t replace that giant scar that is hidden from plain view. I sometimes think people forget that I’m still only half of what I used to be.