The Last Supper.


That's it. I sit here in an empty house, echoey and bare, and I feel nothing. It's over. I've cleared all the energy attached to this space. To the dream, to the life we were building, to the possibilities of a family that is no more. It's done. I am ready to leave this house, and all I thought it was going to be. The process to get here was something else. See no one tells you when your fiancé passes away suddenly that you are facing an uphill battle and that the torment is just beginning. The process of disentangling my heart and soul from his has from time-to-time left me barely breathing, uncertain if I had what I took to even make it one more day. But day-by-day,  breath-by-breath I have done it.

Of course I could have had people take care of so much of this for me, but I believe I had to do it myself. That in doing all these things I have been processing the incomprehensible. That it has only been by doing these things that I have even come close to finding peace. Truthfully peace might be a ways away, as I wrote it it felt like a lie. Still today I am closer than ever before. Each task done while in the moment may have felt like it was sucking the life from me, ultimately was liberating.

From returning my wedding dress, to speaking at the celebration of life, to cleaning out our closet, selling the company, slowly letting go of his belongings, and now to this. Moving out of our home.

 A few months before his accident Rene said to me, ‘babe you need to deal with this’ about a situation I was putting off. I said to him I was, then he took my hand and said, ‘no you aren't you are paying someone to deal with it. You need to deal with it.’ So I did, and he was so proud of me.

This is like that.

I have personally packed every single box. I have hand chosen what comes to my new place, what goes, and what just stays here tucked away in the back of a closet (I am renting to family). I could have avoided a lot of anguish by allowing others to deal with much of this for me. However, I am certain I am farther along the path of healing because I did it myself. I cried, and screamed, and wrote, and at times felt like I could not possibly make it through it, but I have. And it is as though by doing each task I have been granted access to the next level, the next part of my life. I am proud of myself for doing all this, for doing all the things no one would have blamed me for not.  I owe so many so much, but at the end of it, they could only bring me so far, and the rest I had to do for myself. I have labored for over a year, and now see I have been creating a new life. 

Navigating the loss of a love is a battle unlike any other. In a breakup or divorce there is a bit of an edge. A part of us that wants to be able I see them in five years and say, ‘see I am better off without you’. No matter how amazing of a human you are, there is an energy granted to us in the form of ‘fuck you I don't need you anymore’. For some people that comes right away, and for some it takes a while to get there. But in most cases we have friends that will give us the, ‘you are better off without them’ speech. True or untrue it is helpful in finding our way through.

But with sudden death that's not the case. For those of us who have lost our loves to death, in the height of our romance, it is just the opposite. We are fighting against the grain. They were amazing, we had no desire to leave them, they didn’t mess up, betray us, or bring out the worst in us. There is no energy to push us forward. Part of me does not want to live happily without him. Of course in black and white it sounds crazy, but in my heart there is absolutely a sentiment of wanting to stay stuck. Because moving on means leaving him behind, leaving us behind, and that is a lot to take. Still, I feel it. I feel ready to leave the house and all it was going to be. 

So for one last time I sit here, eating dinner and writing to you from the floor of my empty living room. I am sure I will still write to you, but it will be different. Because I will be. ~ with love