Hey Simon,
Sorry, I haven’t been active here. I have tried writing so many times – personal journals, here, on paper, on MS word. Nothing worked except when I was ranting on FB. It’s been two years and 6 days since you passed away (still struggling to say died). Two years since your memorial. Things have changed. I’ve moved to a new city for a new job. I lost my Grandpa two weeks back. I’ve been in my first ever accident. You have another gorgeous niece who resembles you so much that it’s bit creepy. I have another niece and another nephew. Your brother got married. My cousin became a widow as well. So many updates. Only constant is the ache.
I have to say I have gotten really good in compartmentalizing my grief. I can now pretend to be OK around other people. I have also gotten really good at silent crying. I guess this is what people meant when they say it gets better. It gets better for them. They don’t have to see the grief. Widows just get better at hiding it. Or maybe getting better simply means you are not falling apart all the time. I now go out for drinks with the girls and laugh out loud. I just fall apart once I’m home and you are not there.
I do think I have changed as a person as well. Sometimes I am more patient about things. Sometimes I get angry when I see people taking their lives for granted. ‘It’s too short’, I want to yell at them, ‘Make most of it.’ I have learned to accept that some people will never talk about you, no matter how much I want to. Some people will focus on how your death impacts them, not me. And I do realise I’m being selfish here. You were/are after-all mine. I want people to acknowledge my life is forever changed. I want them to see I’m hurting.
So I’m clearly showing some narcissistic tendencies here. I’m making your death about me. Can I just blame you here? You made everything about me. You indulged me too much. All I can now do is feel guilt. Guilt about not taking that holiday, guilt about forcing you to eat/not eat certain foods, guilt about not watching that show with you or that movie or that book you got me, guilt about being alive when you are not.
I think I’ll finish it off here tonight. I am clearly digressing a lot.
S
PS: I might end up posting my FB rants here. Because why not? my words need to immortalised (or til I continue to pay for it or til wordpress stays in business)
Letters to Simon 