My boyfriend is dead.
That phrase is horribly blunt, but it’s the truth. There’s no way around death.
It will be two months since he died on the 22nd December. The same day as our anniversary. He was always known for his timing (or lack thereof). He died on our close friends’ birthday, 22nd October, which coincidently, was the same day he met her a few years earlier. Like I said, timing.
He was an artist. His talent was incredible, and while his chosen medium for many years was spray paint and walls, he was not limited to just that. He had a way with words that many people envied. His pencil drawings and sketches were incredible. His paintings on paper and canvas were amazing.
He always had time for everyone, and on many occasions saved people’s lives through his care and compassion for those around him. He changed lives, made lives worth living and brought happiness to everyone who had the chance to meet him. So many people are lost now, because he’s not here to guide them. Me included.
I’d never loved so completely or entirely until I met him. He completed me, and I know I completed him. We had planned our lives to revolve around each other - marriage, children, a future. That’s all gone now.
I’m a widow of 27, although not recognised by the law. We didn’t have that piece of paper that announced to the world that we were completed.
I am at a loss as to what to do now. I have so many questions that will probably go unanswered, and so many more that I’m too frightened to ask. I know people get through this, I’ve seen them do it, but I don’t know how. How do you wake up and face the day, knowing that your soul mate is no longer by your side? That no matter how many times you call for them or cry for them, they won’t be coming back. That pain in your heart that never seems to dull, but only gets stronger and more desperate as each moment passes.
I’m still considered to be young, but I feel old. I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life, but how will anyone compare even slightly with him? The idea of being with anyone makes me feel physically ill, but I crave comfort. Everyone around me has a partner to cling to, to hold and to cry with, but the loss of my partner is the reason for the sadness. The one person who could even try and help dull this pain is buried.
I get told how strong I am. How well I’m coping with this intense loss. But what are the options? I’m only allowing auto-pilot to take hold and guide me to do the things required of me, and following other people’s instructions when that fails. The only other option is to kill myself, and while I really don’t want to be here any more, that option hasn’t been considered. Surprising, given my history.
I have no motivation for life. I have nothing I want to achieve, because all that I have achieved is lost. I get told to do the things that would make him proud, the things he encouraged me to do, but in doing those things, life inevitably moves forward. I don’t want to move forward. I want to go back to the night of 21st October, and live that night for the rest of my life. We were so happy and content. Everything was wonderful. Then he walked out my door in the early hours of the morning, intent and eager to finish his mission so he could return to me. He never came home.
I’m still waiting for you to come home. Please, come home?
I didn’t lose my boyfriend, but I lost my sister. On Oct. 22 of last year. If you need someone to talk too….I’m here for you. I know so many of the things you are feeling.
