Continued, sorry about that. I have always believed in signs. Just that things come across or happen for reasons, not out of coincidence. To be quite honest, I believe in absolutely no coincidences. I truly believe that there is purpose for every action and happenstance. Which is why, when blogging deeply about Kevin, hearing a nearby church bell ring at an odd hour when I was sitting in the back of the apartment to be able to hear it is no coincidence to me. I think it was a sign.
The year. I know I was blogging just minutes ago about the thoughts on grief, on approaching the year, on laying witness to a horrific memory of a day. I have honored my grief. I have felt every horrible moment that I should have and probably some I should not have. I have felt bitter and cynical and angry about his passing for so long. I have been “the widow”, the one who was left, the one without her soul mate for an entire year.
Do I want the days, weeks, months and years following the year anniversary of Kevin’s death to continue on that road? Do I dishonor him by continuing to lay tribute to his dying rather than his life? Do I do myself an injustice by continuing to wallow in self pity, pain, anguish by continuing to be THE ONE. I honestly don’t know. In some ways yes, in others no.
With the widow comes certains rights. Rights to be angry, pissed, upset. We have those rights and frankly, we have earned them! Who are we to have gone through this pain without being allowed to honor that pain in its truest form? To not feel it would be to deny its existence. It is perfectly ok to feel that. But not forever.
I want to feel alive again. I yearn to feel love again, to feel alive in my own skin, to not ache with the sound of his name, to not ache with the sound of my own name. I dream of living my life with my own dreams, and not with the intention of carrying a life that is no longer or because of other’s wishes and concerns for me. Where am I? Who am I? Will I always be the widow?
I have learned so much, yet how am I applying it? Just to let others see that I am suffering and young and how shitty that is? Why don’t I want them to see that I have survived, that I am dreaming, that I have goals and hopes and dreams and why wouldn’t I want to not just live a mundane life? Why wouldn’t I want to stretch out and push myself for something more than the 9-5? I have seen more, I have learned more, and I have certainly earned more.
I want to live. I want this year to pass and to wake up Wednesday morning, to walk past that 9 am hour and know that yes, a full year has passed since I have seen my love and I miss him dearly and always, always will…but that I can live without him. I don’t want to admit that, but to move forward I have to. I can, and I have, lived an entire year without Kevin…gimme a moment.
And I will live the rest of my life here on earth without him as well. But I will never forget what he taught me. A love that so many people never fine. I always felt like I never deserved Kevin because of the amazing plate of love he brought into our relationship. I had dreamed up a man, and Kevin came with that and so much more. And with his love, and my love, we had something that few find: a respect so great for one another that we cherished what we had. There were times we didn’t, but we had to work hard to be together, and we tried never to take advantage of what we had been blessed with. I was taught true love at a very young age, and I was also taught true loss…all before my 25th birthday. To have loved and loss in the first quarter of a century of my life, is a gift that few are bestowed. Rather than say that I regret that is how it turned out, as I started this post, I believe in signs and purposes, and absolutely no coincidences.
So in this I admit the things I haven’t wanted to. It has happened for a reason, a purpose. There is something on this earth that will benefit from Kevin’s passing, from my knowledge of love and loss at such a young age, from a disease so rare that few, if any survive, from this journey.
I believe that. Wholeheartedly, and unashamed, I do believe just that.
I have survived a year without my love. A year without his touch. You don’t want to imagine if you haven’t walked this year without your love…but if you dare to, know that it is true survival.