WARNING – lots of ill will and hurt beyond this point.
6 months … the 6 month marker.
Someone is there and everything is looking good … then something real bad happens and they’re gone … forever.
And somehow time passes … and while some things are ‘healed’ with time passing … other things just don’t.
Some damage leaves impressions that never leave.
At least that’s the way it appears at the 6 month spot.
Strangely, she was killed on the 19th, which was a Wednesday. This is the 19th and it is also a Wednesday, albeit 6 months on.
A few years before she’d made me promise to give her 40 more years.
I’d been so preoccupied with my father’s death at 47 that my own life had this terminal end at 47. After that I was at a loss, freewheeling … she was real good at turning that around and getting me to agree to 40 more.
It would have been good.
Grandparents. Life in mountains in a small town.
Kids grown up.
Our personal heads leveled and the rocky bits shaken out.
Really in love with each other.
Our happily ever after place …
Well that all disappeared in an instant …
There are lots of things that I could say about this and the last 6 months … but, honestly, right now I’m hoisting a few and it’s been a real bad day in many senses so here’s one thing I can tell you about being 6 months into widowhood the way it’s happened to me:
In one sense I’m damaged.
I look in the mirror and see a face hiding fear.
Fear of many things but fear most of all about getting angry.
6 months ago today the most important person in my world was killed, murdered, slaughtered – taken away in an instant by some bad person. Some f**king bitch from Richmond killed my wife on the highway.
I’m not religious, I do not believe in life after death.
I do not want the bad person to die – she’d would be getting off somehow. I want her to suffer and go to her own personal hell.
BUT even though I would NOT want her dead, some part of me needs to kill … a revenge thing … closure … it’s scary.
I haven’t fought for real since I was 10. I stayed away from PC games for years because I always suspected what I’d learn when I played them … that there’s a certain thrill of the kill … maybe it’s genetic (Viking ancestors and all that). My friends wouldn’t play with me unless I was on the slowest machine … I’m no fun without a handicap.
Or maybe the product of being in and around street gangs from ages 6 to 10 and later … the world I grew up in.
I get the impression that it wouldn’t be a protracted affair. I’m not all that physically imposing so a long fight would not work out in my favour.
No, I know (inside), without thinking, that it has to be done ASAP … the take down/out.
It FEELS like there’s a killer in me … waiting for the need … the opportunity.
Is that stupid or what?
And I’ve apparently worked around this by developing an emotional clamp down.
So I shy away from getting angry … I go into emotional shutdown mode. Not all the emotions go away … just the ones that lead to an anger response or action.
This bothers me on many fronts:
– I can’t experience anger except alone and drunk. In public might not be safe. I auto shutdown anger type emotions there … that’s like out of my control.
– I feel like my emotional range is limited in a way … just like having my legs in casts would limit my physical range of abilities this limits my range of emotional response. Not good.
Life is a stream of happy/sad, made-happy/made-sad experiences. We hope it’s in some kind of balance but that’s just wishful thinking – just ask the millions who die horrible deaths after short miserable lives. Oops, they’re dead and can’t respond.
If you’re lucky enough to win the birth lottery and get born into a ‘prime location’ in the world then you have a long lifetime in which to make or break your happiness / life.
But I stray…
If you do not give the appropriate response to a stimulus how will others know where you are socially?
Sometimes people do things that make you mad to piss you off … and see how you respond.
That happened to me tonight. I think.
Another person (probably most) might have got real public and ANGRY and … I don’t know what because I’m blocked off from that.
But I just asked a ‘concerned’ question and left.
Like – hey – I should be screaming and blowing up but I’m just walking away … at least it seems that way.
And … ending, that, whatever it was. I think it was a kind of friendship thingy … but I find myself at a loss here … maybe I’m stupid or maybe just still numb …
Will I become some sort of social gimp?
Flexes so far and then stops dead?
This really pisses me off.
Real well rounded individual … just ignore the flat spot where the anger used to be.
Personally I’ve always worried more about the guys who ‘never get angry’ … now I find myself becoming one and it’s not what I want.
Not that I want to be angry … but anger is sometimes the correct feeling.
Actions are a different matter all together.
Tonight I probably blew away a friendship because there’s no gray area in my anger response.
When it finally, briefly, shows up it’s at full volume, f**k you and the whole world kind of feeling. Then numbness and deadly cold cut-off. Like so quick I can’t even scream!!!
Which really sucks … don’t make me angry or I’ll walk away?
What’s with that?
So … I’m damaged.
And probably minus one friend … oh well … she was pissed (with me too).
And so it stumbles on …
Someday, maybe, Maya will read this.
The nice part of me hopes it brings understanding.
A smoldering part of me hopes she’s in HELL when she reads it.
Guess who Maya is …
Laurel was my wife.
I won’t go into how much better the world would be with her in it instead of you, Maya.
There’s not enough time …
Laurel would probably have been very angry with you Maya, but she probably would have harboured a hope that you might find a way to a better life than you have. Eventually anyway.
And if Laurel’s spirit carries on in any way in those she loved then there’s probably ‘hope’ for ‘you’ out there somewhere. Maybe even in the ‘Laurel’ in me.
But I tell you here and now that ‘I’ sincerely hope bad things happen to ‘you’ Maya.
That’s ‘me’ talking.
Don’t die. Please.
Just shrivel up and wither away … slowly.
Burn your brain out with drugs and rot.
Is that bitter? Cruel?
From what I understand your life is that of a loser.
Leading to a rotten end – like your brother, Ben
Prove me wrong!
When you look in the mirror do you think ‘Victim’ or ‘Killer’?
Is there anyone else in there?
I hurt someone and I can say Sorry … You hurt them and they’re dead. Oops.
So – Turn your life around … I dare you !
Laurel might just believe you could do it … she could see the good and potential in people.
I can see that too … if it’s there … I just want YOU to experience failure and pain and suffering.
Prove I’m wrong … I bet you cannot.
Hidden in all this sour grapes is the sweet knowledge that I don’t even have to do anything to you … most likely the way you conduct your life will cause you your own suffering. Hopefully you won’t hurt or maim or kill too many innocent people along the way.
Your life leads nowhere … good. Take your time …
I’m not divine – you won’t find any forgiveness here. Just condemnation.
Go to hell … just don’t die first.
… so I can connect with my anger … let us hope it never connects with you Maya …
I can’t blame you for tonight Maya, you weren’t even there.
Whoops – you were in a sense.
Thanks for helping make me an emotional cripple you bitch!!
So … 6 months … means loss and hurt and a lot of pain and anger to me.
She really was the best part of me …
Life can suck.
6 and Suck … both begin with S.
Today’s letter is ‘S’
Sad and Stupid and Sorry begin with S … as does Shitfaced … think I’ll carry on with that now.
So long from here … wherever this is … they have Coronas here …