My god what horrible news. Terrible news. Even though I have heard it said to me, even though it was real, it is surreal to remember back to that moment, as if it didn't happen at all; but it has happened and it is my bane. A miserable reality that I not only have to live through, but I have to endure as well, because each moment seems to drag on to the next with no point, an ongoing and gnawing emotional pain. Depression, too, is new to me and I don't particularly like it. Prior to this nightmare I was pretty much always happy and never sad. I looked forward to each day and I especially looked forward to spending it with such a deep deep love as I have had. What a chasm this has left inside of me. I ponder sometimes how long this horrid feeling will go on. How long am I cursed to feel THIS.....
Yes, I cannot even articulate it without frightening myself. Without fearing I am going down some literary expression that might reveal to me an even deeper misery and realization that heretofore had escaped me like a blessing in waiting to curse at me later. No, I am not on these stupid "anti"depressive drugs. Terrible things lead to great pain. Pain exists and I am willing to give that providence to this life that it is the pain we must endure in order for us to feel whole once more. It is a wicked thing to not feel whole. I really mean it when I say it, "I do not feel whole"--this is real to me. But I am still alive, I have no physical pain, I can not see this hole, the missing piece, and I doubt anyone else can, but it is there nonetheless, grinding on, some days bigger some days smaller but always there...grinding. God Damn the grinding!
My love, we were so close. I had met her and started dating her when I was nineteen. A fucking teenager! and at once I was enamored with her and she with I--for some reason she was enamored with me. We were inseparable. We moved in together and became even more inseparable. Being around her lifted my spirits. I enjoyed her cynicism and she endured my tendency to be critical of things and I made her happy. And our life together wasn't long when my dad, who she had lived with for a year in High School, died of cancer. Fuck my life, right? But it was her that held me on track and gave me a semblance of meaning to look forward to. I looked forward to waking up and first seeing her and being in that state of warmth in bed where you just don't want to get out; like it would be a sin, or it would ruin that perfection, that happy state of comfort, when you are with your loved one and close. God I miss that. My love, she loved to sleep. But even as close as we were we ended up going to school together and then, even for a time, we worked together. For some people that would be too much but I was lucky, luckier then most to my estimation, because this wonderful person was my best fucking friend in the whole god damn world. I could, and did, spend hours and hours with her alone, just her and I, talking about everything, living together. We lived in a very rural area and her and I would go days with it being JUST the two of us and never once did I resent that circumstance for I forever was indulged in her essence and just loved to be around it.
But it is fucking gone! She is fucking gone! Several months now I have been alone. I mean, I have been around many people and I am so grateful for all the support that everyone has given me but the problem for me is if I am not with Her, well, I might as well be alone. At least, I feel alone, an eternal torment of mine. A loneliness that is not satiated by the presence of others but ONLY by that of a presence of a beautiful soul that is lost unto the ether of the universe. She is impossible to be with and therefore I am doomed to feel lonely forever? I hope this is just me being dramatic but it feels this way now, in the future I have hope.
And that is another problem with this whole fucking dead wife thing and that is I am an atheist. I will not see my love again. She is gone. Gone forever. What a terrifying thing, I do have the wonderful memories. Their wonder--the memories--they haunt me. I can remember being happy, at one time. Will I be again? I cannot say. I can see myself finding another muse such as that deepest of love. I can see myself loving them as much as I loved my dearest but I know for a fact that I could not EVER love anyone more than I loved her for a feeling as powerful as that would eclipse my soul and i would cease at once to exist. It is not possible, this love I had for her, it is not possible for it to be greater, it was the end of road for the feeling itself, the highest pinnacle of its being was embodied between that of her and I. Such a sacred connection cannot be articulated without blaspheming its beauty within my memories...the only thing I have left.
Fuck my life, for now
~the saddest man on earth
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