This Time…

I find myself alone again, maybe the first time since I moved to California. This month is very emotional for me. This is August. The 12th was Miss E’s bday, the 16th my daddy’s. Then the dreaded 26th. That day all over again. My new beau seems to understand at moments. I believe he just gives up. He’s a person of words. The hit to the bone, but that’s not really him. He’s been through things that are so unbelievable that they have to be true. I just feel as if I’m paying for it sometimes. I “see” him. Not who he thinks he has to be.  Sometimes I can’t even look a certain way, it’s like he’s trying to run me off.

He was supposed to be going fishing tonight, but idk something happened and it’s going to be tomorrow night. I’m sorta glad he didn’t go,it meant he would hopefully come back to me. I’m selfish that way I guess. I also wish he had gone. He needed to be away from me as much as I needed to be alone. I haven’t written in so long. It’s my therapy, so why do I not take care of myself?

I’m so upset with Miss E, I could send her to the moon. She didn’t answer my text or my phone calls for her bday. I finally called and sang “Happy Birthday” and left it on her voicemail. Still, no answer. Not even FUCK YOU! I guess I really am the selfish, cold-hearted, bitch that everyone thinks I am. I really don’t care anymore. I just want to be ME. Whoever that is now. Some moments I feel as though I know who I am and what I want out of life. Other times I feel that no one understands me and I’m at the end of my rope.

The closer it gets to the “two” year anniversary mark I get more emotional. I guess in a way I feel that I’m not being faithful. In other ways, I forget, then there are days I want to crawl under a rock and hide from everyone and forget what’s happened. It works sometimes, even if just for a moment. But then the dreaded truth comes back to my head and I remember the last moments of “our” life together. The waking up with my remarkable husband, holding me and making love to me. Me, rolling over to ask what he wanted for breakfast and then off to make the coffee. I can’t remember if he even drank a sip. The last time I saw his living being, before it all ended and I lost my world. I found out how the world really is and what people think of me and who is also there for me, in a time that I need them. I’ve found that’s not too many people.

People forget. People don’t want to hear what you NEED to talk about. They use all your insecurities against you and hate you because they believe you to be a victim. I have been a victim, but I’m not using it as an excuse to like or hate me. I am who I am. I don’t try to be anything I’m not. I’ve had people tell me, “just be yourself”. The problem with that is I’m always myself. Maybe to afraid sometimes to say what I’m really thinking, but always me. This time…

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The Sixth Move…

Well, this will be the sixth move since William died in our house, in our bed, where I found him. Now I’m a nomad, searching for answers that I may or may not find. Yeah, Bob and I got into it, again. He’d been drinking. I tried to get out of the conversation, but it didn’t work to good.

Then later around 9 I go to bed, even turn the tv off. I hear him very loudly, calling my name. I thought I was dreaming. He was bent out of shape because the neighbor was playing opera too loud. LMAO. I wanted to choke him, but I didn’t think I had the strength and I’d left my gun back in NC because he’s a convicted felon. I know you got a hundred questions now, but it had to do with kids and it was in the 80’s and blah, blah…anyway this has nothing to do with that. But I’m tired of his smart ass remarks about William and putting me down and changing what he thinks my duties and such for my discounted rent, which he says he pays me for. I’ve never seen the green. 

Then he says I can’t watch his dog while he’s gone out of town because he thinks I’ll kill her. Comes back last night and ask if I was going to keep her. I told him NO. 

He thinks I live in the past, well if what’s happened since William died is any indication of the future, I’ll continue to stay exactly where I am. At least I know William loved and adored me, faults and all. So, off we’ll go on the sixth move…

Reminders…

I have a reminder app. I looked at it yesterday it already had a reminder…My last name is Bryant

It was already reminding me of my last name. Makes you wonder what that could mean. It could mean so many things. I speculate that it would mean that I’m strong, resourceful, intelligent, classy and down and dirty when I need to be. These are all the qualities that I admired in William. 

So, I just need to keep remembering

My last name is Bryant

Gloomy Weather…

It’s been windy and cloudy, some sun. Not enough to put your suit on and layout on the beach, at least not this chick. I guess I’m just going to come straight out and tell you guys I’ve been on a date. It was ok. I didn’t die. Neither did they, lol. I’m ready to move again. I’m terrible. The next couple of months are called the gloomy months. Great! But I had rainy seasons in Asia, so there we go, lol.

Going to write in my book today, first time since I got here. I’m just now half way figuring out which way I need to go. It takes time. Southerns aren’t necessarily welcome. But it’s all good. Just gloomy weather…

Numbers, Faces, Sounds…

I now often think I truly am going crazy or at least that what I’ve heard people call me. I don’t care anymore. Today is one of my numbers, the 26th. Not my favorite number, it’s the day that William shot himself after he opened the text I had sent him. It said- I love you too BABA!

Today I see faces in mind, reminding me of how happy I used to be. I wonder if I could  even find half.I’m not saying that we never had argument, we worked together, lived together, what do you think, lol. But we LOVED each other, it was magic. I don’t know how to explain.

This sounds, it all the planes and motorcycles sometimes startled me. Not all of them, it a certain tone. It’s a certain pitch. Not one I’ll ever forget. I cry every time I hear Eric Clapton play, our last concert. All the different sounds that play around in my head. Numbers, faces, sounds…

I Have To Admit…

I have bronchitis, no fever, take naproxen and gave me an inhaler.  Follow the drill. Oh, don’t forget the steroid shot. I take enough pills a day, I don’t have any room for anymore. 

My problem and it was my problem, is that my roommate told me, for the second time, that he would be there for me a little. God forbid. I love these guys that say they do EVERYTHING for you. Tickles me to death. They wouldn’t know if something spectacular hit them in the head. My roomie said he’d be home by 12. At 2:30 pm he still wasn’t here. At 3 he was. He did something good. 

I’m used William. He treated me with respect, never putting me down, he never did something expecting something in return. I miss him. I’m sick and he’s not here to take care of me. Nobody else cares. Nobody else cares. It’s going to be 2 years, August 26, since he left me that morning. I honestly don’t know where I’ll be, mentally or physically. 

Men or so they call themselves just don’t have the class like they used too. Opening doors, actually being interested in what the girl has to say, caring how she feels and making sure she’s following Drs orders. 

I think all this is coming up because  I have to admit I’ve been having some weird dreams/memory’s lately. I have to admit I think it has to do with the rapist…

I Don’t Know Why…

I really need to write a blog everyday. If I don’t I can really get out there and way beyond myself. I’ve had things that I needed to talk about but I’d either forget what it was at that time, which made it useless or it wasn’t appropriate. It’s like I wait too long or things just get in the way.
I have to start alloting time everyday, each book and my blog. right now i think my blog is more important, but maybe more important, or first consideration is my GROUP. It’s a Yahoo group. I call it mine because it’s for survivors of suicide, but it can be anyones group. I can cuss, I can rant, I can say whatever I want to, about whatever I want to, this past time it’s been how William shot himself right between the eyes.
One of the members didn’t understand how I could just say that. I told them because I
understand what such a deliberate and intentional act he had committed. I don’t know why…