It's 3 am and I'm sitting in front of the computer trying to make sense of this week. I've never been good at sleeping at night when I'm all alone, but tonight I'm not even going to pretend to try. I miss Christopher so much. I'm wearing one of his t shirts right now, with one of his dress shirts open over the top of it. Keeping it classy at 3 am. ;) The t shirt has been washed and no longer smells of him, but the dress shirt does. And I need that tonight.
I've spent the entire day going back and forth between complete numbness and crying so hysterically I'm sure I will hyperventilate. I can't make up my mind which is worse. I just know that this is really hard. Quite possibly the hardest thing I've ever gone through, and I've been through my fair share of hard stuff.
Christopher was only 32. He was a Taurus, born on Friday, the 13th of May, 1983. He was a caring man. He was funny. He was cute. He was one of the sweetest guys I've ever met, but only when he wanted to be. He loved lasagna and meatloaf, and hated mushrooms and pickles. He liked comedies and action movies. He considered sad movies to be one of the worst things ever.
I only had 113 days to get to know this man. And I certainly tried. He laughed at how random I was when we were on the phone or texting. And I would switch from one topic to the next. But I wanted to know everything about him. I knew within the first week of talking to him that he was special and was going to be very important to me. He laughed at my confidence sometimes. I would just tell him "I KNOW we're supposed to be together! I love you! Don't you love me?" And his response was "Of course I do. I told you first, remember?"
A lot of people could probably tell you those things, though. The things that maybe they couldn't tell you are the more important ones, though. At least to me. Like the way he said "I love you" and actually looked at my face. He wasn't a fan of eye contact and hated it when he caught me looking at him. But when he said I love you, he would look directly at me. Or the way he would rub my back when I put my head on his chest to talk to him. He wasn't a fan of snuggling, and would frequently tell me I was asking a lot of him when I curled up on him, but he let me do it anyway. And he snuggled back. He also had this way of looking at me when he didn't think I was paying attention. And the cutest smile on his face. Like he was doing something sneaky by looking at me. I know he wasn't a perfect guy, but he certainly was one of my favorites.
Right now I'm dealing with the aftermath of losing him. And it's hard. I can laugh at some of my memories of him already, but I know a lot of the others will forever be painful. Watching him walk away from me for the last time is something I'm not sure I will ever get over. The guilt that goes with that memory for me is intense. But the smile on his face the first time he saw me is a pleasant thing to think about. And the way he looked when he told me I was much more beautiful in person than in my pictures.
I only had 113 days with my soulmate. It was much too brief. But it taught me so much. It taught me things I'll always remember, even if I live to be 113 years old.
No comments:
Post a Comment