Personal Journal

Post-Trauma

Around 6 o'clock I start to get lonely.
I've done the run-around stuff I had to get done during the day in preparation for my trip to NJ, and the rest of the night looms before me like a dark and deserted hall.
Yesterday was the nadir to my high-holy day, June 21st (not that I'm a pagan, really - I just like the sun). Short days and cold. Everyone is indoors.
I would give anything to have Jean sleeping on the couch next to me.
I felt it at last today, the loneliness and grief, and I cried in the middle of my lunch at a restaurant. I'm glad I cried, frankly, and the manager of the restaurant was most considerate (an older woman - very kind to me).
I don't feel like talking about what triggered it, except that it was memories of Jean, and how her mind abandoned her... that's not right. How her mind was taken from her by cancer. Thank god she died shortly thereafter, frankly.
What an unspeakable horror it was to have to bear witness to those last 3 days. At the time, I didn't realize it was so horrific, but today I think I did. What a horror.
I don't do much time in the "anger" stage, but I am angry that she had to suffer that shit. And I'm angry that Amy and Brenda had to, as well. Because now it's a traumatic memory in them, and in me as well, but for my part, it was the role I wanted to play, and it was mine by right and obligation. They took it upon themselves, and I let them.
In retrospect, I wonder if they wish they had not. And I know I wish I had had the strength to tell them that this was my duty to bear, but their companionship was strengthening to me, and in some place, I believe that Jean appreciated it.
We've all seen into ourselves to a place few people have to go, and found we could respect ourselves there. I'm immeasurably proud of them.

I miss my love so much.