Something that crosses my mind; when I’m feeling really bereft; is that Seb didn’t love me enough to stick around. I wasn’t worth living for. This is a pit feeling, a real low.
The rational part of me knows that this isn’t the case, that he didn’t choose to exit this way. Nevertheless I am heartbroken and my only understanding of that as a young woman was rejection through break-ups. I have only got my own back catalogue to draw from here.
His death was a really clear end, an irrevocable breakdown in communication. Ghosted by the ghost.
At this point I want to drop in some kind of optimistic spin. It is really difficult to. Especially when there isn’t a live reassurance.
His exit has had an impact on my sense of self worth and as much as I have tried to counter that with acts of validation- the person I relied on to reassure me doesn’t exist anymore. It feels like there is nowhere to go. I don’t have any drive today- everything can just wait; I just need to write this.
It could of course be argued that just because he has gone it doesn’t mean that the marriage was meaningless; but it can feel that way at times. It feels that way today and in grief today is all I really have to go on. I feel very empty; but in that statement there is a feeling so there is clearly something going on. I thought Fridays were meant to be easier, I think I felt this crash coming yesterday but I pretended it wasn’t there. I know myself by heart.
Seb and I were so settled in our ways. A state where life in an alternate universe may have been appealing for just a moment. In these moments I was only a better version of myself because of the years of love and security I had known- like I had been nurtured up to a point and then set free. However I would always return to the roost. He must have soared off too at times. I don’t like the notion that we were not enough but I feel it when I remember that he left; he dwells in a different reality now. He left me behind. I daren’t contemplate my feelings of how LP fits into the picture- it makes me feel too angry.
Months ago I woke up, still in a half dream and I heard him saying it had all been a huge mistake and how sorry he was; but he was trapped there now. I felt his desperation because it was all of my own making. I was giving voice to my fears and for a moment I’d adopted his.
This feeling seems unshakable today. At some point my mind will wander off and settle on something else. I think this sense of rejection must be common in grief and it is one that I have to endure. I am so tired of this; the unrelenting next.