But internally, i am in the past. I am in the future. I am living all the moments that others cannot see.
I've been carrying a purse someone gave me. I used to say he was a friend - a good friend - this tornado of a personality who inspired and exhausted me. However, i'm beating myself up to use that word in the past few months because there was a long stretch of silence that I had not intended but was in fact, a result of my (misunderstood) words. We talked for hours and worked all that silence out with a promise to never be quiet with each other again. It hurt and was joyful. But I missed time with him. And more importantly, I hurt him without intent.
And it wasn't easy. I didn't put him in a trashcan. I didn't throw him away from my life. I thought I was respecting his boundary. I thought he was going through his SAD period (which doesn't always correspond to winter). I thought I would just wait a little longer. Wait until i saw a purse to gift to him and maybe leave it at his door to let him know that I miss him.
But he died. And before he died, we had a pretty intense conversation for hours. It was long enough that he got tired of me. I think it was the first time since we met that he hung up sounding exhausted from me. - But that's neither here nor there. He always said he had twice the life he was meant to. He just celebrated a whole other lifetime lived after he received a (health-related) death sentence. And I know I'm being selfish. I know. But I'm still not okay with this loss.
I did not go to his apartment to help pack his things, even though the moment was offered to me. I did not go to his memorials - i didn't even help plan anything. I have been avoiding personal contact with anyone who I met in the time I knew him. I'm just not prepared to deal with the reality that he's gone. But i'm feeling the silence hard. It's the weeks we didn't speak to each other times an infinitesimal amount. And i'm angry. I'm so angry with him for dying. But i did nothing to help him not die. I feel guilty for going through my own depressions and anxieties that did not allow me to be a more aggressive part of his final days.
We're in this pandemic and quarantine. I'm not trying to spread anything. I wasn't about to endanger him by ingratiating myself more than he allowed. But I could have been present for him and I wasn't.
I feel like I was put in a trashcan by someone else in my life. It's been over two months of silence and I'm struggling with a few things in relation to being thrown away. First, i question how it's so easy for people to throw me away. I say, PARTLY in jest, but mostly knowing for certain, that i am a friggin' delight! And I'm a good friend! So, what the fuck??? No fight. No discord. Just, 'i'm getting rid of you.' It's not the first time it's happened. And more stunning than being deemed garbage, is having people with whom I felt I shared real friendship/companionship/care - how is it so easy for these people who were so present to say, 'you are trash and i am throwing you away.' ??
How many people have cared for me and without cause have I discarded? There's guilt and uncertainty. And as terrible as it is, there is justification. I live in all the moments of my past, and all the moments in my future. I live the recollections of my memories and the fantasies of ensuing time.
I'm flooded with so many from my forty eight years that are no longer present. By no means will I ever beg anyone to be in my life, but there is a curiosity how many who were so important are living in tandem of a silent misunderstanding.
So I'm carrying this purse to remind myself about misunderstandings that cause silence. I'm carrying this purse to feel the anger of loss and hold my tears until I can let them flow. I'm under this incredible weighty heft of grief for what i no longer have and this tremendous guilt of the part I played in separation from people and things.
I had intention of whining about feeling like garbage. But as the words unraveled, I need to honor the process of grief I'm obviously experiencing. I want to make my gratitude clear to those who have been so generous in sharing their importance with me. But it's frightening to be exposed with the uncertainty of disposal.