Me Without You.

Babes, It’s been awhile since I’ve written you, although I still talk to you every day and think of you in so many little moments. I have sat to write you countless times, but am just so confused. I still cannot believe that you are dead. And when I really let myself remember it is unbearably painful. I guess in some ways I have learnt to live like that never happened. Out here it is easier to do so.

I remember Dave coming back into Kelowna and telling me he dreaded coming home. That when he was away it wasn’t in his face all the time because you and him had not spent time together in Edmonton, but as soon as he was back in Kelowna he had to face the reality of your death. Here in Fort Mac I am living a completely different life. One that could never exist if you were here. A life we never lived together, and in that there is a lot of freedom for me. I don’t see our time together all over the city. I am not reminded of us everywhere I go.  In my day-to-day I'm keeping a low profile and am enjoying knowing no one. There is no pressure here for me to be anything. There are far fewer reminders of not only our love but also the heartache that followed your death. Still you are in me, intertwined into my heart and soul, so I don't need physical reminders to think of you.

I find myself missing you so much, and am unable to reconcile this life I live now and ours, the life we shared together. It is like two completely different worlds separated by a story so sad I can’t believe I lived it. It is almost like all we were, all we had, my whole life in Kelowna was make believe. Only my heartache assures me otherwise. I think that is why I don’t write you anymore, once I even let myself get close to your death the hurt swallows me up. I wonder if that is all healing from a loss like this is. A way of coping that pulls me farther and farther away from the insanity. So in my day-to-day living it appears alright, only I not dare really think about what I lost, for in that moment my entire world collapses and I am left in the grips of an emotional whirlwind of agony and disbelief.

Babes, my life here is nice. I'm sure you laughed when I actually moved here. I remember once mentioning I would like to move to Calgary and you laughing at me, saying I would never make it through the winter.So I am sure you are in shock watching me, but really it is good. I am more at peace here than I ever was  in Kelowna since the day you died. Here, away from all that was I have shed many layers. Only, I am no more at peace today with your death than I was the day I heard. I have done a ton of fucking work to not be messed up from it, and for the most part I think I am doing well. Still, the sadness just sits there. It still demands to be felt and begs to be released. However, it seems I have more control over it now. I can feel it building, I can feel the pain growing. Usually it is like it knocks now, it doesn't just bust the door down and roll in; more polite. Knocking quietly and getting increasingly agitated if I don’t give the pain my attention. Choosing to open that door into hurt and sorrow is a lofty task. But tonight was the night, I have been avoiding you, this, it, for days now and in my avoidance I get irritable and angry. So tonight I sit with you. I sit with us. I sit and I cry, for you, for me, for us.

Even as I write to you I cannot believe you are dead. I can’t even believe it. Dead?

It is like this, most of the time I compartmentalize that entire time in my life. I hoped I would integrate it beautifully, that with time and work there would a be a grace around your loss, but now I wonder if forever and ever your death will remain an open wound. One I learn to live around, shift my life so as not to disturb it, ‘cause once jarred I will be the same shocked, torn up, confused little girl screaming for you in the backyard like the night I found out.

See while your death is too confusing and painful for me, your life was pure magic. I have no problem reminiscing about your life, about things you said to me, and how you were. Your life brings me so much joy. I like it here because  I can tell stories of something I did with my fiance, something my fiance said, or I can mention a funny about you in a yoga class and it isn’t met with heaviness. See here, they don’t know, they don’t know about the tragic turn of events that took place before my fiance could become my husband, all they see is how I light up with I speak of you.

My love I owe you so much. I think about you in gratitude all the time. Every time I see beauty in something most people overlook, every time I love so deeply or feel so strongly in a moment most would hardly even feel. When I see someone's soul in a fleeting moment that no one else would even notice. When the day to day encounters take my breath away. When I notice life and connection in a way our culture teaches us we are too busy to stop for, I think of you and how I know this secret about life that most won't. My eyes are open in a way they would never have been if I had not lost you. Your death broke me open and open I have stayed.

So, just as I was grateful for you in life, I am grateful to you in loss.

My sweet Rene, I will always love you.