The Gray August 8 Which is worse? Eating alone, or fighting over where to go to dinner? Living alone, or living with someone who doesn’t want to live with me? I’ve had to learn to exist in all these double-truths, these gray-washed spaces, while my mind longs to paint it all in black and white; to box you up, and put you elsewhere. But it doesn’t work that way. These cuts aren’t clean. This isn’t simple. I used to think myself so superior when people said, “This grief will take years.” Not for me it wouldn’t. But now I see I didn’t know a thing about what any of this would be like. I can’t project-manage grief. I can’t give it a sequence of events to follow. I’m angry one moment, and I remember your laugh in the next. I remember how harsh you would be when you were hurt, and how gentle you were when you felt loved. I lived in the dichotomies of you. Now, I live in their absence. The Couple August 13 I saw a couple today, sitting outside with their little dog, in the same spot where we would sit at the end of a long day. The husband was eating a sandwich, the wife was looking at the dog doing something cute, and they both smiled. The dog stood between them, just like ours used to do, thrilled to be part of the fun, just like ours used to be, and I had a singular thought: Their love survived. Ours didn’t. Your Life and Mine August 14 It’s the most arbitrary times that it hits me; coming back from the grocery store, after a dinner with old friends, driving from here to there, I remember I’m not married to you anymore. I don’t know where you are or what you do, even though our lives were inextricably connected in every possible way. It’s hard to even fathom that it is five minutes till nine, and I have no idea where you are. Sometimes I wonder how all of this happened. Did it happen fast? Or was it slower than I thought? I started the day feeling strong and bold, telling my friends how life had come back into my eyes. I ended the day feeling alone, and it’s okay. It really is. It’s how I want it. But I still remember you, still know you better than anybody on earth, still have your name, still keep wondering how it could possibly be that your life and mine — they aren’t related anymore.
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