i had posted this on f---book at the 5 year mark. i don't ever want to lose it so am going to post it here too.

How can it be 5 years?

Five years without his voice, without his laugh, his smile, his words, his love. Five years of missing him, of missing us, of missing the person I got to be with him.

Five years of watching some of the people in his life come and go out of mine. Not being ok with that because they are my only links to him. Learning to live with it anyway. Knowing his friends have moved forward- gotten married, bought houses, moved, had babies—thinking how much he would have loved all of it. Realizing they struggle just as much as I do sometimes.

Five years of wondering what would have been. Would our wedding have been everything we were planning? Would our marriage have been everything we hoped for? Where would we have ended up living? Would the dream of Isabella or Anthony/ Andrew/ Michael have happened yet? Would we have been happy?

Five years of time marching forward. He would have been 35 now. Instead I have outlived him by a year and a half. That was never supposed to happen. When you fall in love with an older man- he is always supposed to be older. Instead- he is forever 30. Who dies when they’re 30? How does that make any sense at all?

Five years of making mistakes. Of being the one left to live life and therefore coming to some incorrect decisions. But also five years of learning to live with the mistakes and to keep on going. Time spent second guessing. Wishing that there could be some do-overs in life but knowing that sometimes it’s just not possible. Hoping to take some words back and wishing that others were said. Missing a lot of people and not just the one that is forever missing.

Five years of walking in the doors to work wondering why couldn’t they have saved him? They are able to save so many. How is it possible that these wonderful people were not able to save him? Aren’t they the best in the world? Shouldn’t that alone have been enough? Living a dual life of loving that place because of the comfort, friendships, and memories it offers but also hating its very existence. Wondering when his nurse practitioner will stop looking at me with that look in her eyes. I hate that look. I hate that they still feel just as guilty as I do. That they let him down. That I let him down. That they let me down. That we let everyone down.

Five years of hoping that my love was enough for him. Wishing that I knew for sure.

Five years. 60 months. One thousand eight hundred twenty five days. All that time spent trying to picture him in my head. His big brown eyes and funny smile. His scratchy goatee and his soft hands. Trying to hear his words in my heart. Remembering the good – dinners in the north end, immeasurable amounts of sushi, kisses after baseball games, a turkey party with friends that were (and still are) family, endless monopoly games in hospital rooms, Christmas with the nutcracker in the background, valentines with pearls and a specific black dress, weekends full of friends calling and visiting, a diamond ring that meant more than any carat size ever will. Fearing the nightmares of the bad- oxygen masks, chemo bags, canes, walkers, wheelchairs, no more options, last words, struggling for breath, wake, funeral, burial, death.

Five years of loss, laughter, memories, love. Five years of knowing no matter how many times you say you love someone it will never be enough when they are gone forever. Five years of lost innocence. Of knowing that other people are so lucky to be fairly oblivious to this kind of pain. But also five years of learning that the pain doesn’t kill you. The pain is just the reminder to cherish what is still here. To appreciate the people that haven’t died, but instead keep you alive with their compassion for you. To appreciate the new ones that come. To be surprised by the people that show up that you would never have guessed would and to be disappointed by the ones that just disappear. To remind yourself that you have to move forward, you have to open up again. That life is not just full of pain- it is full of joy too. It is full of finding the balance between missing him and loving another and the wonderful discovery that it can be possible with the right person and it is ok to live forward. But always, always, always missing the one that is gone.

Five years of wishing for just one more conversation, one more laugh, one more hug, one more kiss, one more smile, one more anything. Coming to grips with the reality that none of it will ever happen.

Five years. I miss you John. I miss you. The you that only I knew and the person that made me the happiest I had ever been. I loved you and still do more than you may have ever known. I remember you today and every day for everything that you brought to my life and everything that you took with you when you left. Thank you for being my confidante, my love, my best friend. Life is not the same without you- it never will be. You still live in every space of my heart and always will.


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My life is so different now than what it was when i wrote that.... however i do believe that the balance of loving another is still possible.

last night i was on te phone with J. He said to me that if he had the chance he would love to hug John and thank him for being the best thing in my life- and making it possible for me to love the way i do.

the tears formed in my eyes but then they stopped because there is really nothing but joy here. There has been a lot of pain in the past year or so- but now there is only joy. joy and love and gratitude for what was- and what might be.

I miss him still- i always will. But there is a hope about me that makes it impossible to focus on what is gone. For the first time in a long time I think that my dreams may in fact come true.

to Alicia--- a long time ago you left a comment here about your relationship with a man that was similar to C- that you struggled with some of the same things that I was struggling with. And after you broke up you met your husband. You give me hope. You always have.

in case anyone still reads this....

the chapter of my life that was c. is over. i ended it. we wanted two very different things and i was not willing to wait for him to want what i need.

however- it seems as though someone had been partially waiting in the wings. i have known him for a very long time and i love that he gets me and has known me and knew what i went through with john. he was there then just for me-- not for the memory of him.

he is there now--- but for the both of us.