The Missing of You

Something strange has been happening lately.
Perhaps for about the past month or so, this odd thing has been inside me.

It is the missing of you – which, of course, has always been there since that day you died and I died too – but this is different. This is different than it just being there as a part of me. This missing of you is a force. It is an energy all it’s own, and it takes over my thoughts and my brain and my heart, until literally the only thought that plays over and over and over again, is: I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.

Sitting on the train and then on the bus to work – I miss you. Lying in bed and staring at the wall, awake much longer and much later than I should be – I miss you. Teaching a comedy class or an Acting class and giving instruction and being professional, while inside thinking – I miss you. Pretending I’m listening to the man at the register, as he rings up my items and makes uninteresting small talk with me – I miss you. Reading on Facebook that yesterday was your best friend and his wife’s 23rd wedding annivesary, and realizing again and again that we never even made it to our 5th – I miss you.

kissing

Is it the change in seasons? Is it because it’s my favorite season of autumn right now? Is it because my birthday just passed? Is it because Im writing this book about you and us? Is it because our “would have been 8th” wedding anniversary is coming up in just a couple of weeks? Is it because your “would have been 50” birthday is coming up the week after our would have been wedding anniversary? Or is it because after 3 years of grieving and processing, the only real thing I’m left with is the intense and forever missing of you?

Yes. Yes, yes, yes, and yes. It is all of that, and maybe also none of that. It is my body and soul feeling your absence more now, than ever. Why now? Who knows? Who cares? I just can’t stop missing you. The feeling is so strong, that I say it out loud over and over throughout the day, into the thin, crisp air. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. It is so dominant that the other day, while attempting to write out a list of something for my grief-therapist, the only thing that came out on the page was I miss you, Boo. Oh, how I miss you.
It is so natural that I pet our kitties, and I say to them with tears in my eyes: Do you miss BooBear? I miss Boo, and Boo misses you too. I miss my Boo.

It is so strange. I got through the 3 year death anniversary in July with flying colors. I was in San Diego for Camp Widow and I was feeling great. I got through my birthday absolutely wonderfully. I was at Camp Widow in Toronto and feeling superb, even wanting to dance and celebrate. And then something just sort of happened, over the past few weeks. My energy just turned very, very sad. I know I will come out of this, and I know I will feel other, different emotions soon. Maybe this is happening right now because it needs to. Maybe I feel like I never got to tell him I miss him or I love him when he died, so maybe I can’t ever say it enough times now. I really don’t know. But whatever the reasons, this is what is coming out today. This is what needs to be said. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.

Maybe it’s selfish – I don’t really care
you promised forever
we never got there.

If you’re gonna be Dead,
it’s not asking a lot,
that your soul stays with me,
it’s all that I’ve got.

Where you go,
I should be.
Where you go,
Stay with me.

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