Saturday, 30 November 2013
It’s hard when you realise that someone isn’t who you thought they were. Sometimes you meet someone and you think there must be more to them but no they are exactly as they appear what you see is what you get. I’ve always thought that was a pretty good description of me but what I’ve realised is I’ve been fooling myself. You see the person who isn’t who I thought they were; it’s me.
I’ve not posted here for months. I’ve told myself that I don’t have time to write. Or that there’s nothing to write about, after all this is a travel blog and I’ve not done much travelling since I arrived in Wellington. I’ve been living with a terrible internet connection so uploading what I write is difficult so why bother writing. All perfectly plausible explanations and all bullshit. You see when I write I write from the heart. I’ve not just not been posting, I’ve not been writing and that means I’ve been hiding from something. Finally I’m ready to face that something.
Since arriving in Wellington I’ve been living a very normal life. I’ve been staying a hostel where there are a lot of long term guests so there’s not too much change in my circle of friends. I’ve got a steady job and tomorrow I’m moving in to a flat. I’ve been living a very normal life. I’ve put a lot of effort into it. A few weeks ago I had a melt down because I’ve been trying so hard not to miss Josh. Been trying to force myself to be interested in dating. Trying to be something that I thought I should be rather than just being who I am. I tried really hard but you can’t force grief, it sets its own timetable. So I found some calm in admitting that I still miss Josh. I miss our life and all that I lost when he died. I thought that was it but I still wasn’t writing then this morning it hit me.
I’m through with being reasonable and understanding. I don’t care if it’s not logical and not fair. Yes I have a great life now and I am thankful for it but he left me. He didn’t mean to, he didn’t want to and for years I’ve been saying that’s ok but it’s not. He left me and everything changed. In an instant everything I thought I knew and everything I had was gone. And I am angry. I am so angry. He left me. How could he do that do me?? I have a playlist that I listen to when I’m having a bad day. It’s got Avril Lavigne’s “So much for my happy ending” on it. I always thought that my anger when I listened to that song was directed at life but it’s not it’s at him. He LEFT me. He left me behind and went where I can’t follow. You can comment on this and tell me he didn’t mean to. You can tell me that it was a senseless accident and no-one’s fault. You can even tell me that he loved me and he didn’t want to go but I know all that. I can quote you reasonable until the cows come home but it doesn’t change how I feel. I am seriously pissed off.
We didn’t have it all and it wasn’t perfect but it was damn good and about as close as you can get. It felt so right and nothing has felt like that since he left. Nowhere really feels like home without him. There are times when I think I’m good. When I thing this time I’ve got it sussed but the thing is I don’t feel like me. I was finally comfortable with who I was. He loved me and it gave me so much more. You can tell me he still loves me that it’s not something that can be taken from me but I’m not the same person I was. I’m sure he’d love me even now, he was unwavering like that but it’s not the same. He’s not here to help me figure me out anymore. He left me to do it on my own. He left, he’s gone and I am so sad for all he’d missed and all he still has to miss but I’m angry too. And I’m allowed to be. Why didn’t he see that car? Why did he have to be him. Why did everything I loved about him have to be the things that led us to this place. Him god knows where and me here, alone.
He was my other half, ergo I am half. I feel incomplete without him. I hate that. I’m a person in my own right. I’m not defined by anyone else yet I feel it still, that hole. That ache in the stomach that I thought by now would be gone. Over four and a half years of missing him and the wrong song, a bad day, a stupid advert on TV and it all comes rushing back, the pain, the black hole in the pit of my stomach. I have a great life. I should be able to appreciate it. I shouldn’t still be dealing with this but I am, because he left. He was taken. However you phrase it he’s gone. Do I forgive him? No because deep down I know there is nothing to forgive. I know he didn’t want to go so I am sorry. I am sorry that I’m angry but like the sense of loss and pain I’ve learnt to live with this is something else I need to work through. And I’d say I’ve made a pretty good start, even if it did take me a while to get here.