I was in the worst kind of haze. The kind where you feel your mind is outside of your body and it’s just floating along. I remember taking the longest shower. Just leaning against the wall and letting the water wash over me because I couldn’t cry anymore. I started talking to Kevin. It was the first time after I found out I lost him that I spoke to him.

I don’t know if it was the lack of sleep, food or Xanax, but I started telling that bastard off. “You cannot leave this Earth after all the years we put into our relationship and just abandon me. It’s bullshit. Just because you aren’t physically here doesn’t mean you are off the hook. You promised me happiness. Dammit, you will find me happiness. So find me a damn replacement. I want a millionaire. I want him to fly me around the world. Scratch that. I want the million to fly myself around the world.”

I’m telling you I was out of my mind. Did I really just yell at Kev for dying? Did I really ask him to find me a rich husband? WHO AM I?!?

Weird things happen in grief. They still do. The idea of someone “replacing”  Kev makes me want to hurl. I can’t wrap my head around that. I remember when the first time after Kev had passed that someone offered to set me up on a date.

I went home and threw up.

Not their fault. I just couldn’t physically nor emotionally handle it. Trying to describe this feeling is excruciating. Out of all the pieces of my grief, this one seems to be the one that stings the most. Kevin was my first true love.

Gosh, that sounds so corny. I was the first person to make fun of that type of crap. As optimistic as I am about life, I am the most cynical person about love. I am extremely guarded when it comes to that part of my soul. I am anti-PDA. I hate most romantic movies. Except Pride & Prejudice because Jane Austen is a goddess. For the longest time, I despised the color pink. I still hate red roses. I grew up loving The Paper Bag Princess (every little girl should read it.) If I sense a guy is coming too close to me, like clockwork, my brain says “scare this fool away.”

Kevin broke through all of that. Over and over, again.

Today marks a day for me that was really important in our relationship. It was the day that I brought Kevin home with me to meet my family. No other boy in my life had gotten this far. My family knew this was a big deal. I knew this was a big deal, but I didn’t care because I wanted everyone to know how much I loved him.

I distinctly remember feeling, for the first time ever, a true sense of love.

I had found him. The one for me.

Now, to start that over? To say that he was the one for me then, but there could be another one for me now is not something I can easily grasp. I know people who have dated while grieving. That’s great for them. I admire people who can open up their heart again.

I have entertained the idea. I have accepted pursuits, but my brain cannot separate my hurt enough to acknowledge any new feelings for someone else. This is my truth and it is my current state.

 

Defining how the love Kevin and I shared will impact my life is something I can accept. I enjoy finding new ways to feel that true sense of love. Whether it is nurturing my friendships, taking time for myself or crossing off my bucket list. This is what fuels my soul and brings me a light.

Until Next Time.