I still miss him so much. It surprises me sometimes.
Tonight there was a show, with the pub sign from the show he directed but never saw because he was in ICU, with the long storyteller's coat that he wanted to wear to our wedding, with songs recycled from previous shows he'd been involved in. The memories didn't hit as hard as they used to but, even so, I still left at the interval to go and find some space.
I ended up eating chips on the quay by the river and even that brought back memories of sitting on the edge of the quayside in the harbour, in the exact same skirt, on what probably passed as our first real date eating ice cream and listening to the Storyteller tell my a story all of my very own.
I'm fed up of being alone. It hurts too much.
I'm trying to pluck up the courage at the moment to go in the pub behind me, get a drink and listen to the band properly, rather than sitting out here in the quay. I used to enjoy going and listening to random live music in pubs. I've never been brave enough to go by myself though. Of course, now I've said that, it sounds rather a lot like they're taking a break. So perhaps, I won't.
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Friday, June 13, 2014
By the light of the moon
It's late; my brain is caffeine-addled. The moon is almost full. The night is clear and shadows fill the room with a peace, of sorts.
The lack of shadow highlights the smoothness of one side of this bed. If I sit up, I can still identify the white lights of the hospital against the orange lights of the town. The view from this home has both comforted me and sickened me, in the past.
This home won't be mine much longer. Four more days at the most. Soon, someone else will watch the weather come in from the Channel, hiding or revealing the islands. Someone else will watch the fireworks on the quay.
Soon, there will be a new place for me. A new kitchen to feed people from. A new home for my books. A new home for my huge stripy blanket.
The shadows move slowly across the walls. How many nights has their progress been tracked? How many mornings have been spent watching the sky lighten?
This room hasn't known as many tears as perhaps it should have. Loneliness and sorrow are old friends but rarely given vent to, not here.
Which life do I wish I was leading? Married but poor, a carer and childless? Married, with children but having compromised who I am to get there? Divorced with children, having made the decision too late? Or as I am, single, financially solvent and able to plan a complete change of career almost at the drop of a hat?
The empty side of the bed looks emptier by this light. This wasn't what I wanted. On a different moonlit night, six years ago, I was all of a-flutter, did I have the time for him? If I knew then how it would end, would I still have made that choice? Would I still have said yes?
The lack of shadow highlights the smoothness of one side of this bed. If I sit up, I can still identify the white lights of the hospital against the orange lights of the town. The view from this home has both comforted me and sickened me, in the past.
This home won't be mine much longer. Four more days at the most. Soon, someone else will watch the weather come in from the Channel, hiding or revealing the islands. Someone else will watch the fireworks on the quay.
Soon, there will be a new place for me. A new kitchen to feed people from. A new home for my books. A new home for my huge stripy blanket.
The shadows move slowly across the walls. How many nights has their progress been tracked? How many mornings have been spent watching the sky lighten?
This room hasn't known as many tears as perhaps it should have. Loneliness and sorrow are old friends but rarely given vent to, not here.
Which life do I wish I was leading? Married but poor, a carer and childless? Married, with children but having compromised who I am to get there? Divorced with children, having made the decision too late? Or as I am, single, financially solvent and able to plan a complete change of career almost at the drop of a hat?
The empty side of the bed looks emptier by this light. This wasn't what I wanted. On a different moonlit night, six years ago, I was all of a-flutter, did I have the time for him? If I knew then how it would end, would I still have made that choice? Would I still have said yes?
Monday, March 31, 2014
Random update
Just so you know, I'm not ignoring this blog, I just don't need it so much any more. I'm leaving it up because I know I've linked to it in a few different places and I want to leave those posts available just in case anyone comes back here and needs to know that they're not alone, that they'll get through it.
Thoughts of a less private nature will be found over here when I finish writing the first post
http://helenmt81.blogspot.com
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)