I wish it were simple.
It should be simple.
Why can’t it just be simple?
The grieving part, the part where you are in emotional and sometimes physical pain 24/7 – that part is already hard enough. It’s downright impossible most days.
So when you finally leave that part, and you come into this shift of something different, something else – something where you are still grieving and missing them like mad, but where it no longer overcomes you 24/7 – and you can sometimes actually envision maybe something resembling a LIFE in the months and years ahead –
When you get to that place, FINALLY —-
Why can’t it just be simple?
Five years into this hell, I am finally in that place where life and death and loss converge, where they melt into one another like air that you breathe in and out – and I’m just trying to create a life for myself. And finally, I know what I want. And what I want is simple. It’s VERY simple, really.
I want a simple life. I want simple joys. I want to spend my days writing my book, and writing more books maybe, and doing speaking engagements and maybe some more grief coaching, and anything else that has anything at all to do with helping others out from underneath this hell. As an actor and comedian, if something amazing should come my way like a TV role or film role or my dream of being part of SNL somehow – so be it. But that is no longer my goal in life. My goal is much more simple. I want to find ways to walk other people through this mess of grief, and I want to figure out how to make some sort of living doing that. Whether that’s through books or speeches or counseling or other creative ideas I come up with, that will all come into focus later. But that is what I want.
Other than that, I want a simple lifestyle. I want to be there for the person I have come to care about, and I want us to walk through this together. I want to honor our forever loves who died, every single day. I want them to be a part of our lives, every day. I want to come home at night and sit by a roaring fire and drink some prosecco, and rest my head against the person I care for, and hold his hand – and just BE. Just exist. And when I have a bad grief day or week, or he does – I want to give each other that space and that private time to go and be with our thoughts and be with that person we are missing – and then come back when I’m ready, knowing that this person is waiting there to hold my hand or just HOLD ME through this. I want to be partners in grief, walking each other home to be with our person again, one day. Knowing that we both would give anything, even each other, to have our person back again, but since that can’t happen – loving each other, and loving our person, together.
Why can’t it be simple? If I like him and he likes me, and there’s a lovely connection there, isn’t that all that should matter? But life makes it complex. Past feelings of hurt and past experiences that were bad, and past mistakes that haunt -make it complex. I understand these things, logically. But the part of me who lost her husband in a fucking INSTANT, and who only got 4 YEARS with him, is SCREAMING: “We are wasting time!!!! What if there is no more time???” If I die tomorrow, or he dies tomorrow, I want to die knowing that someone out there cares about me, and I want him to die knowing that I care greatly about him, and that we both decided it was WORTH IT, to just go with that feeling and let it happen. Let it be. I want to know that he thinks I am worth taking that risk on. I am so lonely by myself. I don’t want to be by myself. It makes my heart hurt when we don’t talk for a while. It makes my heart hurt when my love for him seems like a burden. My heart lives where my heart lives. I cannot control that, nor do I want to feel differently. I just want love to be stronger than fear, and for us to be scared together, instead of apart. I just want to exist, floating down the road of who knows what – together.
I want things to be simple.