It's been a while since I blogged. I started this one in November last year (2015) I think and I keep coming back to it and then changing it again or adding to it. I think I've just gotten lost with this whole thing. I'm not even sure what 'thing' I am referring to, but I'm lost. Life lost all sort of meaning to it and I had come to realise that I was just blankly moving through the days with no real aim or purpose. I'd like to say I was drifting or floating through the days but that implies that there was some sort of gracefulness involved and it certainly hasn't been graceful! So here I am writing again.Lost. It's a funny word. It implies that you no longer know where you are. It implies that nothing is familiar anymore. It implies that you have little idea, if any, about the direction you need to go in; you are unable to find your way. Sometimes you don't realise you're lost until you fail to reach your original destination. Sometimes you don't realise you're lost until it's pointed out to you and sometimes you don't realise you're lost until you try to turn back and go home. Home to the familiar sights and sounds. Home to the familiar feeling of love and security. Home to what you know. My dad used to say that it's when we're lost that we discover new places and new ways of getting somewhere. We discover places that we never knew existed. We're not lost; just taking a different road. I guess we've all been forced to take a new road now Luke.
Lost. Also implies that which is taken away and cannot be recovered. So in this context, you are lost from me Luke and I am lost without you. Lost is your laugh and your smile. Lost is your reassurance and your annoying jokes. Lost is the need of having to tie up my pj bottoms through fear that you would 'pants down' me at any moment. Lost are our cuddles on the sofa and your kisses. Lost is my annoyance at you for yawn-raping me for the millionth time! It's been more than a year and a half since you left and I still feel lost.
I still don't understand why we weren't allowed our life together. I don't understand why we were denied growing old together. It all just seems so unfair and when I think about this, my chest feels tight and I find it so much harder to breathe. I don't want to live the next years of my life without you and yet we have no choice. So what am I doing to keep surviving your loss?
Well for starters, I'm using all my strength trying really hard to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I am trying really hard to just keep living, because that's what you'd be wanting me to do. This Christmas, I didn't stay in our home; I decided to go away to Thailand with my friend. It was definitely the best decision to make. I thought about Luke all the time but I still enjoyed myself. It was a different sort of 'enjoy' to what I'd experienced before losing you but for the first time since you'd gone, I felt a different emotion alongside the pain of you missing.
I can only describe it as painting thick black all over a page and then painting another dark colour (possibly purple) around the edges- just a wisp of it, overlapping the black but still visible as a different colour. The pain isn't any less. The hurt isn't any less and the disbelief and brokenness isn't any less. But I appear to be able to take on an extra (opposite) emotion alongside this. Perhaps this is why I'm so shattered! But does this extra emotion alongside the pain mean I have forgotten you? Or that I am getting over you? Does it mean that the grief is over and that I will no longer feel your absence? Does it mean I have moved on? Well they're all easy questions to answer - NO! The extra emotion has definitely not replaced the pain. It certainly hasn't pieced my shattered heart back together. I've just grown to be able to feel both. Do I feel incredibly guilty for laughing; for smiling; for finding enjoyment in life outside of me and you? Of course I do. I'm sure I always will but you wouldn't want me to hide away for the rest of my life and shut the world out. So I'm going to do the hardest thing ever and attempt to continue to live without you.
On the 23rd December 2015, while I was in Thailand it should have been our 1st year wedding anniversary. The night before this, I thought about this and I thought of how we should have been and how rubbish life was. But on the actual day, I didn't think about it. It wasn't until nearly the end of the day that I remembered. Don't get me wrong, I didn't forget about YOU. I thought about you throughout the day and in everything I was doing. I was wishing you were there too and I would be thinking about what you would be doing and saying. But I didn't acknowledge the day as something significant (even though the evening before I had). I didn't think, "This should have been our wedding anniversary." I'm going to be honest; when I realised that I hadn't thought about it all day, I had to remind myself that it was ok. It was ok to not think about that. It was ok to think of you and not the non-existent wedding anniversary.
It didn't mean that I'd forgotten you or us. It didn't mean I was over your loss now. It just meant that I'd been living, like you'd want me to. I thought of you constantly in the day but just didn't remember that it was the 'wedding anniversary'. Perhaps this is a good thing. Perhaps this is what helped me through it. Perhaps this is the reason I survived that day. Luckily I had an amazing friend with me who reminded me that I didn't need to feel guilty for not thinking of the wedding day. I'm not quite sure what sort of a person this makes me but I'm being honest. Would you want me to remain in a state of permanent sadness and merely existing for the remainder of my life; not engaging in the world or the opportunities that occur? Never laughing or smiling or finding anything fun again? I don't think you would. I think you would want me to search for what can make me laugh and smile once again. I think you would want me to find some way of feeling something other than this hurt and sadness. I think you would want me to start finding my way from this state of 'lost'.
With this in mind, I have been able to do a few more things. Before going to Thailand I made the massive decision to go into the man room and to pick up your clothes and things that you had left laying on the floor that morning. For anyone following this, you would have a great understanding of how massive an event this was and how painful this was. The very thought of moving your things that you had placed there made me feel physically sick. The thought was like being punched repeatedly in the stomach, with the pain resonating throughout my entire body. These were the last things that you had touched. These things were reminders of your routine that day and I somehow felt that these things gave me a greater connection to you on the day that you became lost to me and everyone that loves you.
But I realised that holding onto those clothes on the floor wasn't holding onto your memory or our memories. Your things on the floor and the talc on the floor weren't a reminder of happy times. Those things weren't 'us' and by leaving them untouched I was actually holding onto the memory of the day you never came home. I don't need anymore reminders of that day: the very fact you are missing from us and the hurt I feel is a reminder enough. Those clothes laid on the floor represented a day that I will never forget or get over. Those things on the floor served to pull me back to that day every time I saw them. So I picked them up; one by one. I placed them in the wardrobe with some of your other things. It was one of the hardest things I've had to do. I realise I say this a lot about many of the things I've done without you but it's true! They're all so bloody hard! But I've done it and I think you'd be proud. I also hoovered up the remnants of the talc that you had spilled onto the floor. I still keep the door closed but the room does have a different feel since I picked up your things. Your towel however, is still hung on the banister and your pjs are still on the bed. Your pillows have also remained untouched and unchanged (which is really messing with the duvet sets Perryman!!) Your dressing gowns remain hanging on the back of the door, just like you left them and your pot of porridge remains untouched.
It is the last day of March and the sun is shining and the birds are singing. I've been out in the garden and I miss you. This is the kind of day that you would have been out on your bike; the windows of the house would be open, and music would be playing. Today would have been a good day.
I remember, in the first few months of losing you, reading this quote:
'There are moments that mark your life. Moments when you realise nothing will be the same and time is divided into two parts- before this and after this.'
It didn't mean anything to me at the time. It didn't stand out at the time and I just passed it by. But while choosing an outfit to wear the other day this quote suddenly sprung to my mind and I found myself pausing. This quote is so very true. I was sifting through my clothes thinking I can't wear that because I always wore that with Luke; or I'm never going to be able to wear that again because that's my date dress/Luke really liked me in it. So my clothes have a 'before losing you' and 'after losing you'. This got me thinking about what else has become like this and I've realised it's with a lot of things: the foods that I eat; the type of meals that I cook; the places I go or the jokes that I laugh at. Everything has been divided.
So we are now in June - almost July. You would be 28 now. We would be discussing plans for our anniversary and no doubt you would be getting deployed somewhere just before we were due to celebrate! I have made some massive, out of this world, life-changing decisions. You would be so proud of me right now! (To anyone reading this, you will find out in time). This decision will take my life in another direction and this time, it has been controlled by me. It's a path that I am choosing. Those close to me, already know what I am talking about. This decision, although scary, makes me feel excited for the future. This is an emotion I never thought I'd feel again. I also feel very anxious because I feel as though it's another step away from you (But I know this is just in my head. No matter what happens in my life or the paths I choose, you'll always be my one and only and you'll always be in my heart). However, I do believe you would be so happy and proud of me for the path I'm about to embark on. I hope you're up there watching!
I think to keep taking steps, no matter how small, is how we get through each day. Even now, I still have to break the day down into even smaller parts and sometimes into actions. Time hasn't made a difference to the pain. It's only made me stronger to handle it and taught me how to adapt to survive this. I think the most important thing I'm learning is to not give up, even when it feels like I have no choice. It's ok to hurt and to cry. It's ok to wake up aching for you to be laid next to me again. It's ok to laugh and smile. But it's not ok to give up. One step at a time. One moment at a time and one decision at a time.
Miss you Perryman. I love you forever - a little bit...A LOT! xxx
