My days are haunted. Hell my nights are too. I am living within the ghost of a life that can never be. Waiting on a future that has already become my past. On the outside it appears that I have accepted my fate and that I am moving on in life. The best place to hide is in the midst of everyone else's chaos. The second hand keeps ticking ahead for everyone else, slowly bringing them into the future but my clock is busted. The second hand twitches almost as if it half-heartedly wishes to continue it's predetermined course, yet it returns to it's place. A steady heartbeat keeping it barely alive, only without the hope of moving forward. Is this the coma-like existance I have resigned myself to?
How can time move forward with him not being here? There never was a future in my mind without him. I only truely grew up when we were together, so in a sense you could say that he helped raise me. I was a niave 16 year old when we first met. Then I was a clueless 18 year old when we moved in together. I was still kinda dippy when I got pregnant at 22. It was only when I lost him that I stopped growing. I dont want to change into a person that he wouldn't know but I still want to become the woman that he deserves. I still want to make him proud. Yet I can't wrap my head around what to do with my life because all I want is to build him up and work with him toward our future and raising our family.
I think the true reason for my static life is that the more I do, the more I go out and experience things, the more people I see and conversations I have, means that time is truely passing in measurable amounts. A part of me is denying time fiercely, insisting that the more I can make my life stand still the closer I am to turning it backward and seeing him again. Oh time, you fourth dimensional dilemma! How I wish I could control you! I spend hours living within the daydreams in my head. I am the master of time in my mind and I can fix any problem, and save any person.
The book "Time Machine" is a good example of how this is impossible. As a book lover and science fiction buff I should know that even if the remote possibility existed to control time that I could never hope to save him. To go back in time to stop an event from occuring is an impossible feat. For if the event never occured you never would have travelled into the past in the first place. Continiung with the "Time Machine" comparisons, I wish I could propel myself and my daughter into the future, so far ahead that everything in my life has become the ancient past. The people and problems I leave behind would be the source of fairytales and legends in a future existance for us. Maybe there, without any reminders of the past or the stolen future I can find happiness.
This wish to escape my life and my present tragedies is unhealthy, I know this. I have mentally accepted the fact that our physical relationship can never again be, but our love will continue forever. I love him mentally, emotionally, and spiritually and my dreams show me the truth. I see him in a blurry world, difficult for my mind to understand, but I still see him. He is always calm and controlled, as opposed to my stress to understand. Still he is so resigned to accepting this cruel fate which I still don't want to accept. I do believe that our souls know what struggles await them before coming to this world, and that by being here and living a human experience our souls can grow. There is a life after death and he is there. Living in his own way and he is okay. He isn't worried about me though I worry enough for both of us, he just understands so much more than I do.
I guess what I am getting at here is that there is a complexity to our grief. There are no steps to follow in order, there is no straight line to walk, and sometimes there is just existing and surviving to the end of another day. To find yourself laying in bed alone but somehow making it another 24 hours despite the second hand being broken. There is a passage from the ending of "The Great Gatsby" that really speaks to me tonight.
"Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter — tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning —So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. "
This is how I feel as I attempt to keep pushing forward toward a future that can no longer be. Until I am truely ready to move on I will revel in my dreams and hope that tomorrow will be just a bit easier. Til that one fine morning...