It’s interesting. I decided to look back at the blog posts I made a year ago, see if and how I’m doing better. Turns out I’m a lot different now than I was then. Both in predictable ways – ways that make sense – and in unpredictable, surprising ways. But there are still some similarities. Those are also both predictable and surprising.
At this point last year, I still couldn’t eat much. Still got sick upon eating. Today for lunch, I didn’t eat too much because my stomach decided it didn’t want to cooperate. Different reasons (maybe?), but similar result. On the other hand, last weekend, I ate almost as much as I used to before Ian. (My meal size has reduced drastically, which I actually think is a good thing. I didn’t realize it, but I ate way more than I needed on a regular basis.)
Last year at this time, I was still crying every day. (I’d only missed one.) Now, I have cried once or twice in the last month. I do still get teary here or there, but rarely now do they ever actually fall. I still miss him. I still think of him at every turn. I still wish he was here to laugh with me, sing with me, hug me, and just BE. But I don’t cry about it near as much.
Last year at this time, I was convincing myself that regret was useless. That there was no way I would have known. No way I could have known. I was yet not fully convinced. Now I am. Now I have had ample time to think over every single little detail. Every single little thing I knew, and learned a number of things I didn’t. And now I know, I couldn’t have known. There was no way. I’m at peace with that.
Last year, I was upset at the idea of an afterlife. Aggravated that I didn’t know, that there was no way to know for sure. I hated both the idea that I might believe something that’s wrong, and the idea that if I didn’t believe it, I’d miss any signs from him. It was visceral. I despised anyone who was certain either way. And I hated that I didn’t know. Now, I still don’t KNOW, but I have had a couple experiences that lead me to believe. I still grant that it might be entirely in my head, but there’s enough evidence that it’s not for ME to think it’s not. I do think he’s out there. He’s at peace. And he’s keeping tabs on those of us he loves. I feel like he’s laughing at me for my shenanigans. Cheering me on. And that when I eventually join him, he’ll be there to give me a gigantic hug.
Last year, I was convinced that I’d live the rest of my days in self-imposed celibacy, with no real close friends, just semi-close friends who I kept at at least a little distance. Now? Now I’ve come around to the idea that I can still have relationships. Though, I still believe I will never be as close to anyone as I was to him. I still doubt I’ll let anyone in as far as I let him. I don’t believe I have that capability anymore. But at least I’ve come around to the idea that I might let someone in some of the way.
I still have his picture on my phone lock screen and background. I finally changed my Facebook profile picture and background. I’ve stopped sleeping with his pillows. I still bury my head in his couch occasionally, because it still holds his scent. I took down the pictures in my kitchen. I still have the pictures on my piano. I can drive by his street on my way to work now. I can’t drive the reverse direction yet.
A year is both so long, and so short. “What a difference a day makes” indeed.
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