39 Days and Counting
It doesn't seem like 39 days should feel like an eternity, but it does. Yet, at the same time, it also feels like yesterday. It is hard to reconcile time right now, especially since I am working minimally and I really have no set schedule of anything. It has been like this since Friday, December 6, 2019 at about 11:30 p.m. CST. That is when the clock stopped ticking.
Missing him is becoming a part of me. Not every little thing makes me cry and I've actually remembered to take my medicine every day so far this week. In fact, I'm trying to find more things to keep me busy. I did my laundry (I even hung it up!) and started on my Thank You cards (finally!).
These may seem like small things, but these days, I'm considering anything I can do an accomplishment. I'm not trying to sound pathetic, but considering the fact I am not one who just likes to sit around and do nothing, this is quite a change. I keep telling myself it is temporary, that one of these days, it will all just click and I'll feel human again, but as Day 38 turns into Day 39, Day 39 turns into Day 40, and so on, I wonder what the end result of me will look like when it finally does click.
I was talking to my counselor today about him, but that's really nothing new. At our first session after his death, she told me that when she heard it was him, she was worried. I saw her quite a few times before he died and she even met him once. She knew that ours was something special, so when she heard it was him, I am sure she knew I'd be calling soon. I spent my last two sessions essentially just sobbing and babbling uncontrollably about the whole messed up situation, and today was a little different. I actually managed to talk some of the time without sobbing. Another small victory.
Since it happened, I have talked so many times about how I feel so cheated. I wanted more time with him. I wanted to grow old with him. We had plans. Not big plans, but plans. Okay, so the plan was really just to grow old together.
I feel like I have dealt with so much BS in my life that it was time I was rewarded for always picking myself back up and surviving. I know I shouldn't feel like I deserve to be rewarded, but damn! How much crap is one person supposed to take in one lifetime?
My friend said, "Maybe he was your reward. Maybe you got everything you ever wanted."
It shouldn't have left me speechless, but for a moment, it did. It is so hard sometimes to look at the big picture when there is so much that can get in the way. Phil had his faults, and we all know I have mine, too. We had some rough times but we always managed to find our way right back into each other's arms. We were even separated for 5 months. It was really only 3 days, but we didn't officially "live" together for 5 months.
No matter what, we loved each other and that was worth more than the fights. We managed to work our way through all the messes and still be as in love or more than we were from the moment we realized we were in love. Until his very end of life, we were very much in love. The image attached with this post was what he posted on Facebook about 15 minutes before the accident that killed him.
So maybe I wasn't cheated. Not totally, anyway. Yes, I would have LOVED to have more time on this earth with him, but I also know that no amount of time would have been enough. Not everyone was as lucky as we were to have found such an amazing love.
And how am I able to get out of bed? For him. He would never, in a million lifetimes, want me to live like this forever. And sometime, maybe I'll get out of bed for me.