grief

it’s 8:29 pm & i miss you

/ mycatisafrenchspy / Leave a comment

rainy, sunday, a list: sleeping in, cleaning the flat and doing laundry, reading the wuthering heights and drinking all the coffee, basking in the sunny warmth of my kitties, having long phone chat with eyetalian boy, watching sports & b movies and feeling good in a while. life is good.

it’s raining and i’m thinking of you – your death anniversary is a few days away, and i want to fast forward to next month. i am consumed by the pain of this loss of you and i can’t breathe.

so i miss you a lot and i could fall asleep right now, it’s so peaceful and i’m thinking about you and i am talking to you.

trust and truth, my lover you saw through all of my flaws— you used to say to me “you exist differently” you’re the kind of weather that gardens love

i’ve been learning about myself as of late and i’ve realized a few things… i’m forgetting you and it doesn’t feel good. but i guess a part of my fears of losing you again ie. is something that i’m trying to let go of because baby, our love didn’t last forever and that’s okay. i want to let go of all the anxiety, the sadness, the grief, the pain. i want to accept this wholeheartedly. you will always have my heart

i can hear the thunderstorms closing in, and do you think that the universe tries its hardest every single day to bring us together ? i can only hope that there’s divine intervention happening somewhere, but humans being humans can also be something familiar enough for us to stay. i miss cuddling and curling up against you and miss your kisses.

it’s 9:37 pm and my mind is running wild, hey, do you remember when we walked downtown late at night and got lost in the city ? i can still hear your laughter, i can still see my smile.

i think i have a terrible time keeping secrets away from myself and because i’m so excited to talk to you, and to tell you that i’ve been thinking about you

my heart raised high, my soul open wide, my love attached to your heartstrings, they say that unknown locations are the best vacations— i miss getting lost with you all the time and i fall in love with you more than enough times

you’ll always be my favorite way to experience love, light-hearted and tender, rough on the edges when necessary, but all things great fire-started by your smile and i still love you.

i do. i do still love you. we’re alright, sweetheart.

and when the rain stops, and you’ll vanish while i’m asleep, i just wanted you to read this and know that it’s authentic and genuine.

thank you for being my best friend, even if we’re no longer a couple these days, even if we do prove that even death can’t separate us.

it’s going to be a grand adventure regardless me struggling and you dead.

i just wanted you to know that i’ll never forget you. whenever it rains, i’ll remember you, us – you won’t be too far away. you will be wherever the flowers grow. and you’ll be right where the sun kissed the sky, and i’ll be waiting there for you as well.

5/5/2019

anatomy of me being scared and being brave

/ mycatisafrenchspy / Leave a comment

12/02/2017

i write stories to survive… i write stories to remember that i am still alive. this year is weird. this year is being scared and being brave. a few years ago, when i found myself all alone, i thought it was like the whole universe was shaking its fists at me, at us (my kids and me). sometimes i forget about the times silence filled up the house, and sometimes i forget about the nights i didn’t sleep and sometimes i forget about my shaky legs carrying me around from one empty room to another empty room trying to find comfort.

people probably are under the impression that i walk around with these things tucked in my pockets, and that i wake to my sadness and greet them in the morning; but i think my grief, and sorrow has a way of hiding themselves in the gaps of my bones, living under my skin like a itch that doesn’t go away and they only rears their head now and then.

there are other things hiding there as well…. things i don’t talk about, because when you give them words, you give them weight and they are already heavy enough on the nape of my neck pushing me down into the earth. i don’t need to share the weight. and i’m not afraid of them, but they are unnecessary, unerasable reminders on the path behind me. i am not claiming i won’t look back. but i’m trying to not let the things from my past falter my steps forward. there are a lot of things i could tell you about.

like all those sliced up thighs and thin red lines on my wrists and the time the only boy i ever loved telling me to turn around and never look back. there are a lot of things i could tell you about, you know ? my friend screaming at me to stop me doing something stupid and the night at the hospital i sat next to julien knowing that it was the last chance to say goodbye.

but i don’t think it’s something that i’ve got to do because those stories are just stories and their effect has already been filled.  i am what i am but i am filling into the details and i am still learning. like how i’m realizing how there’s something attractive in distance, to me. there’s something harrowing and beautiful about getting in the car and just going. which is what i do. often. and, one day, what i think i’ll do. i think, because of the ways that changed me, running as far away from things as possible and holding them at arms length feels right, even if it stifles the way my eyes shine, and the way i am trying, ceaselessly, to bridge all of these gaps and stitch up these miles. it’s not just about love. it’s about owning up to all of the things that i feel, which is something i am bad at and which makes my lips stutter and my hands shake.

so the things i’m learning to be brave about? they’re not about the suicides or the hasty goodbyes or leaving a home i thought i knew. and not about all those things that people shoot me sideways glances about. it’s about the feelings i tucked inside my chest and didn’t tell anybody about–not because i was ashamed but because i didn’t think they were relevant or that anyone cared.

so i’m growing up and still learning, and i’m getting to the place where words are always burning that the tips of my tongue. it feels a little uncomfortable, but how else am i supposed to deal? i’m gonna find a way to let them go. and it’s not brave in a “baring your soul for the world to judge” type way. it’s brave in a “finally becoming comfortable with being who you are and not letting anyone, namely yourself, tell you that there isn’t worth in that.”

i have been trying to be brave for a few years now and i do this over and over again every december… i have a little post it note on my bathroom mirror which says “become committed to being scared and being braver” and i’m gonna start living by it, or i’m going to be doomed to a life of sidelining myself, and only ever being brave for other people.

so i’m showing up here again with my heart on my sleeve and a handful of things i want to tell myself and to let go. i hope i’m ready to listen, i hope i’m ready to believe. it’s not a process, it’s not a step-by-step program. it starts the second i want it to, the second i step up, and that second, for me, is right here. right now.

hello again, december !