Monday, August 17, 2009

Oh yes...

... to do....

guinea pig cage,
more letters
dishwasher
wipe sides in the kitchen
hoover front room.
make bread.

That shouldn't take too long.

Stiff talking to! And kisses.

I have given myself a stiff talking to, aquired a stiff upper lip, and have sewed a lot of squares today, randomly.

I'm going to use the purples, reds and greens to make a big throw for the bed upstairs, and I want to do that before I start on the memory quilts for the children. That is such a finite amount of material!

I've also got some blues and greens to use up, and some lilacs, and some patterns, and in fact a LOT of material. And that's ok.

I've heard from Rich's credit card company today who have been very helpful and appreciated getting the information that they needed for this to be sorted out. Something else sucessfully placed into the SEP field.

I have written cards to thank all of the super important people that wrote to the AC and I after Rich's death, and have been slightly awed by the ranks and addresses I have had to use! Wow, they are some bigwigs! lol!

I have made a strong cup of tea, drunk it, and am about to go and make another one. I've eaten boiled eggs and airmen, I have tidied the kitchen and the dining table, and actually, when I list it like that, it wasn't a bad couple of hours.

I had a phonecall to make sure I was ok, from the Authorities, based on the fact it is a calendar month today.

I sat in the quiet time, and I talked to him, and I said I missed him, and that I love him so much. And from nowhere there was a bouncing off of the road rainstorm, which I choose to take as him missing me too. The weather was always something that he was able to predict and use to his advantage, and whilst it may be poppycock later on, right now, I feel it.

The first time we kissed was during a massive thunderstorm. We were outside, drenched in the rain, loving it, because I love thunderstorms. It was right overhead of us, and so loud and so bright. Rich was stood behind me, and I turned to look up at him to say something, and he just leant down and kissed me. We stood, for what felt like the longest time, arms around each other, like something in a soppy film, utterly drenched, looking at each other, and he said afterwards that he wasn't sure if I would run away or not, but when I tilted my face back up to him, he knew. And then we kissed some more. Lots more actually. I had never been kissed in such a heartstopping way. And now I'm sitting here with a big grin, just thinking about it.

Later, when the thunderstorm had moved on, we came inside, and he borrowed some tracky bottoms and a tshirt, and we had cheese on toast, and he had coffee and I had tea. And we talked.

Not long afterwards, we went to the Christmas do together, and things progressed from there, but that was our first kiss. And it was magic.

Today....

today I am tired, nervous, afraid.

There is a lump under my breastbone that will not shift, because it's just a lump of emotion, and fear. A fear of life without him, a fear of life without the love and strength he gave me so willingly. Somehow, sometime, it has become essential to my being, that I have this, like a drug, like the more there is the more I want.

To not even know properly where he is scattered is more painful that I can admit, even to myself. To not be there to let him go, myself, when I was the only reason he stayed, is a failing on my part. I know he won't see it that way, and he will be providing of slaps upside the head to various people when we all meet again, and that for me there will just be his arms around me, my head on his chest, his lips kissing the top of my head and his voice in my ear, telling me again that he loves me, he's missed me, and he's glad we are together.

I prefer the numbness to this. The pain is too raw, too much, too much. And yet........

See me plaster on my game face.
See me pull it together for the child.
See me stand up to my full height, which isn't a lot, and face the world head on.

I will not hide in a corner and cry.
I will not make my child unhappy with excessive tears.
I will not depend on others for my emotional stability - they all have lives and loves of their own.

I will be...

ok.

The end of the first month

This time last month, I wrote *this*

We were so happy in our lives.

Now I'm sitting here, after 3 hours sleep (1am ish to 4.30ish) and I am peaceful and calm, and alone.

The AC turned up in my bed at 4.30 am, bad dreams, wants Rich, so I hugged him until he warmed up, then just lay in bed, thinking.

It's been one hell of a month.

I can't even write about it right now.

It's madness, that's what it is.