Why am I writing this? And why is it called Glorious Surrender? Well, I have an answer for those questions and it's pretty much the same. My boyfriend died just about three weeks ago. Since then, externally, I've been holding it together fine. Going to work everyday, talking, even laughing with friends. Internally though, I'm fucked up. And why shouldn't I be? Life will NEVER be the same.
My boyfriend was lucky enough to have a large group of family and friends that loved him, which in turn has created a sort of support system. The problem though, I suspect for each of us, is that we each knew him differently and will thus mourn him differently. That's how mourning works. You go through phases. I'm currently in the, "lonely, angry," phase, the, "I don't really give a shit that you're upset too," phase, the, "why the fuck did this happen to me?" phase. See, for me, I'm not only mourning the loss of his life and the love we had, I'm mourning the loss of the life we were supposed to have together.
I was supposed to say yes to that man when he asked me to marry him, walk down an aisle and say I do, have his children. That was the plan. Instead, I watched, helpless, as the best part of me slipped away behind his eyes before finally leaving all together. I sat, terrified in an uncomfortable hospital waiting room, until the surgeon came in and brusquely said, "And unfortunately, he died."
I wanted to punch him in the teeth.
But this is part of life right? This is how we learn? So that's why I'm writing this. Because I know I'm not the only one who's dealing with this or has dealt with this or will. And sharing our stories of loss and pain helps us not to feel so alone. And "Glorious Surrender" refers to what I'm doing with my life now. It has no religious connotation, don't run away with yourself. It just means I'm surrendering to the power of now, of life. And I'm not holding back any more.
I am so sorry you've had to experience such a loss so young. I can't think of anything I could say or do to make your pain any less severe, but I'm here- in as much virtual presence as I can be- for whatever that's worth. To read, offer support, encouragement or strengthen your screams of "it's not fair and it doesn't make sense!" Because it's not and it doesn't... but there's good stuff in life too and I'm glad you're not refusing yourself the ability to at least outwardly connect to others and to laugh, because that's important and someday you wont just be connecting and laughing on the outside, but you'll feel it inside too.
ReplyDelete-Andie