Unweaving

Babes, Tomorrow I am going to sign over your company, and I hate it. I have come to realize how much I was apart of it, how much I care about it, about the brand, about its' success. Now selling it I will no longer have a say, no longer be consulted on strategy, and the money feels dirty to me. What the fuck am I going to do with it? How do I ever spend that? You worked so hard building the company, I remember we were young, sitting in your Mom's basement and you were like, ‘well should I buy this, I think I could make it successful?’  You did it, you made it great, and I was inspired by your determination, commitment, and passion. You loved saying you'd take care of me, you'd always look after me. So babes, I can just hear you now ‘I told you I'd provide for you’ in the adorable/irritating way you would, and here I am still resisting it, just like old times. Thank you, I am grateful for all the ways you did and continue to care for me.

I am getting ready to leave for Australia next  week and have been asked if I'm excited. Excited? Well, I am basically running away from how much it fucking hurts to be here. I am going on a  trip alone, halfway across the world because I can't stand all the reminders. I am begging to be just a normal girl, but know that no matter where I go whether others know or not, I will still feel that I just lost the love of my life. That I have stayed for almost eight months and have done a lot of work; all the paper work around your death, all our taxes, closed companies, closed bank accounts, cleaned out closets and the house. I have; given away so many of our things, loved our baby as we were both waiting for you to come home and tried to keep it all together. I am going to therapy, went back to work, striving to live, trying to put on foot in front of the other every fucking day and now I am running away ‘cause to be honest it is all too bloody much. You are everywhere.

In the knowing smiles, or pats on my back, and in all the places we used to go. The other night I had so little time to take Ollie for a run but I couldn’t bring myself to go to ‘our’ park. I had noticed I'd been avoiding it but in that moment it hit me, I’ll never go walk that park again. You and I took her there almost every night. How do I live here? How do I really live with this? Some things have been my saving grace, like work and friends, but how do I really have fun in this town, in this life?

So, tonight I look at places to stay in Australia, I go through emails from people hoping to wear your suit to their events, I cuddle Ollie and hate that I am going to leave her. Now she knows people leave and don't come back. That hurts my heart, I wish I could explain to her that I will be back and it's only for a little bit. I'm sure she will have a great time, and like a Mom dropping their babies off at school, it will be harder for me than her.

As my life is moving me on, I am disgustingly aware that this wound will be coming with me, and is going to take a long time to heal. I can feel myself want to be ‘better’, I get frustrated with how compartmentalized things feel, that my body is holding so much of this and is hurting, and that there is a tension in my neck and shoulders I can't seem to work out. I am frustrated that my body is so tired but sleep eludes me, and like a child that is way over tired, I end up being hyper, almost manic.

Now is intense, it feels like things are breaking. Like I am breaking away from what was, who I was, what we had, and how we were. Slowly over the last seven months I have been trying to unwind myself from you. Unlike a breakup we didn't get to free ourselves. While those awkward conversation and gathering of things at the end of a relationship are hard they are the times of slowly un-weaving the tapestry of a partnership. The moments of pulling pieces of your self back and loosening the knots, giving them back as many pieces of themselves, separating as many of the threads as possible. Well babes, we didn't get that, we were so intertwined and there was no un-threading,  we were ripped apart. I kept so much of you and you so much of me.  Now I have a huge wound to mend but I also feel the parts of you that you gave me.

Mending my tattered edges is laborious and I have to learn many skills. I wonder what it is like for you? Are you mending threads? Does it hurt you, or are you OK?

I know you will stay close, I'm still not ready to cut the ties. This week before I go seems so full, literally busy, emotionally intense, mentally demanding; the breaking point before my next phase. I love you.