I never talk about this. I try not even to think about these events that followed the death of my husband. The men I slept with – just to feel as if I was wanted. As if I mattered.
What do you want me to tell you? Who I slept with? The idiotic situations I never, in my life, thought I would find myself in? Well, here goes…
But first, the most important question (to this day) is: if you loved me as much as you made me believe, how could you leave me? Like that? Knowing I was not strong enough for what the future held? That is what I would like to ask him, if I ever came/come into contact with my husband again.
I am so mad at him for making me have to grow up. Requiring me to make adult decisions. Alone.
Sometimes I think I have to be as drunk as I was in those moments, so I can revisit them without shame, and write about them. But, as women, we are programmed to feel shameful for what we do, when it deviates from the norm. So drunk, or not, I need to own what I did, over and over again in order to forget that I was completely alone. That the tectonic plates had shifted and I was no longer living the life I had imagined for myself.
Why? Why did you come into my life? I know I asked the universe – I put it out there at the trade show in Atlanta, in my journal. And then I met you 48 hours later, and you were everything I had hoped for. You changed my life. You changed me. In the most magnificent ways I could have ever imagined.
And then you disappeared. You faded away. You chased me away. I have been running from you since the day you died. Perhaps to spite you. Perhaps to try and get my anger out – in the only way I know how, through sex.
Because I have always known that sex is power. And I can be very powerful. Very powerful.
So, who would you like to know about first? Or do you know about them already? I don’t know what I would wish for more – how I desecrated our home? Or would you like to know about your best friend – do you know about that? We were there to celebrate your life. And mourn in the most human way. But there is more. And I can tell you more. It might allow me to absolve my soul of the guilt I have been dragging with me for more than a decade.
© Sorrow & Kindness