It’s been five years today. It hit me yesterday morning, out of nowhere, like a bucket of ice water thrown on my naked skin. I wanted to write something, to say something, to mark the day somehow, but I don’t know how. All the tears I’ve yet to cry they feel taffy stuck in the back of my throat, trying to come out, as they have off-and-on in these five years, but they stay there, waiting, I guess, for the day it all pours out of me.
I talk to you sometimes. Mostly before sunrise, in those very early hours, when the day seems bigger and wider and where conversations with the dead seem possible. I tell you about things you’ve missed, things I know you would have wanted to see, things about our children, and sometimes about me.
Sometimes I yell at you when I’m in the car and no one can hear. Other drivers must think I’m crazy, or scream/singing-a-long to some punk band. Maybe both. I scream that you are coward for leaving, for taking the easy way out, for giving up and letting go. Sometimes I scream that you are the lucky one now. Sometimes I just scream that I miss you.
Seventeen years of my life I knew you. Most of those years I loved you, even during times when I hated you, too. No one will ever know me the way you did, or love me that way either, for better, and worse. We lived in four states, almost five. We had two children, almost three. We shared a birthday that became our anniversary that now is a day I can hardly deal with.
Today is harder though. Every new year that passes feels harder.
Sometimes I think that the pool of tears I’ve barely touched with my fingertips will drown me. I push it down farther and farther until it has nowhere left to go.
If I could go back in time, to 1992, I’d do everything I could not to meet you. Maybe then you would still be here in this world.
But then I would never have known you, or our beautiful babies that are growing up so fast. I would have never known just how much I can survive.
Five Years :: David Bowie
at the starlite diner 
So sad & heartfelt I hope you can find some peace today somehow.
Thanks, Susan.
Today’s hard. Trying to find peace in music and writing.
Can’t imagine & honestly 5 years is so fresh–best wishes.
Real love never dies, but remains with us for the rest of our life. True love is as rare as a perfect song. When you find it you just know it, and treasure it for the rest of your life.
Some think that when love leaves it’s a tragedy, I like to think that never experiencing that kind of love is the real tragedy.
Girl, sounds like you had one amazing experience 😉
“It’s real love
It’s real, yes it’s real love
It’s real”
John Lennon
Thanks, my friend. I’ve missed you, by the way.
It is a bit more complicated than that. When someone takes their life it is a hard thing to wrap your head and heart around.
We did have a real love though, even when it was fraught with so much. I don’t regret loving. I wish he’d not given up on life, even when we weren’t able to fix things with us anymore.
Like I said, its complicated.
I love that John Lennon song though, and yes, we had some amazing experiences and love and life together. He will always live in my heart, and in our kids, too.
My daughter Jesi went through a similar experience when her husband took his life, and a big part of her life as well. which Btw happened about five years ago.
However he did leave her with two awesome boys that have become a big part of my life and that I treasure every day I get to spend time with them.
So, yeah life is complicated. And yet love makes it all worthwhile
Take care my friend 🙂
You take care, too. Love to your daughter, as well. Tough stuff to go through, but yes, love makes everything worthwhile.
Love and music – and children 🙂