Four Months...

It‘s taken a while for my head to clear enough to sit down and write. It’s still not totally there so I apologize ahead of time if this seems a bit scattered.
Backing up to August 19th, I was about to leave work when I decided to check my email. There was a message sitting in my Inbox from an unexpected sender. I immediately regretted opening it as I read ugly words that seared into my memory, words that took me back to a time in my life I’d certainly love to forget, words I never expected to hear from someone I was once proud to call my friend.
Immediately before my fingers could fly across the keyboard with an even harsher response, I grabbed the mouse, instructing it to close the browser. I quickly packed up my station and went home to meet Shannon. We were going roller blading.
She picked me up and we headed to the park. She told me about her day and when we got quiet, sitting at a traffic light my eyes filled with tears. Before they could fall I piped up. “Shannon? Thanks for being here, for listening to me, for not being an asshole…” I trailed off and stared out of the window.
“Well of course honey!” she replied going through the green light. “What are friends for?”
Exactly. I thought to myself.
The next day I woke up early and like clockwork, headed to Inman Perk. I can’t really say how I felt. It was four months ago today that Rob died. That on top of the sting of this damn unsolicited email had me both tremendously sad and filled with rage at the same time. The timing couldn’t be worse. I’m actually feeling grief again and not stuffing it down with food and other things so I feel extra raw.
I sit at my usual table and shortly after setting up my computer, a friend from OA walks up to me.
“Hey lady!” she smiled.
“Morning!” I smiled back. It was good to see her.
“How are ya?” she asked.
“I’m…” I looked out the window. “I’m really angry.” I finally reply. “Do you have a minute?”
“Of course.”
She listened while I explained how I felt about yesterday and today being an anniversary of Rob’s death.
“Wow.” she said when I was done.
“Yeah…” I sighed.
The great thing about the people I’ve met in OA is that for the most part they are pros at respecting boundaries, about not trying to fix any problem but they’re simply there and really, for me, that’s all I need.
She tells me about things going on in her life before saying, “If you need to talk more, or something comes up and you just have to say it, I’m right over there.” she pointed to a corner on the other side of the building.
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I’ll be back to check on you.” she winked at me.
I got back to the computer, writing my sponsor and trying to make sense of what was in my head. I desperately wanted to write this blog as things were happening but I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t resist the urge to cuss folks out so I just sat with it.
My friend returned an hour later.
“How you feelin’? she asked.
The tears began to fall again. “I am so lucky to have such amazing people in my life right now, but this really really hurts and couldn’t have come at a worse time. I miss Rob so much and since I’ve been trying to take care of myself, I’m actually having feelings again and I swear, it feels as if my dad just called to tell me about Rob. I don’t know why it works like this..” I wipe my face and stare out the window.
“It’s going to hurt until it doesn’t hurt anymore. You cannot rush this, you’ll be done when you’re done.” she gently replies.
They were the most perfect words anyone could have said at that moment. She’s right. I’ve never allowed myself time to really feel anything…in my life. I was always told to “let it go”, or “get over it” so quickly that I never really processed anything or felt anything because I didn’t feel it to be appropriate to have any feelings that were remotely negative. As a result I am filled with anger and it stays with me like a barnacle I can’t scrape off.
My friend and I eventually said goodbye. I packed up my computer, my legs suddenly feeling too heavy to move so I walked slowly toward the door when something caught my eye. It was the cover of a newspaper that might be of interest to my co-worker. I picked up a copy and walked to my car.
Sitting in my little silver shell, closed off from the world, I didn’t start the ignition. I cried instead. A lot. I couldn’t breathe anymore. I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. I didn’t care how long it took to stop crying. I didn’t care if I was late to work. I was going to take this moment and allow myself to cry. In between breathing and not, tears falling and not, I stare out over the dashboard. It’s going to be a pretty day.
I had been in the car for an hour when I decided to start the ignition and go home. It felt as if my legs didn’t have enough strength to push the gas or break.
When I made it home my mood quickly changed and the rage returned. I glanced at the clock. I had enough time before work to run through Freedom Park if I ran fast and didn’t stop. I raced through my room, changing clothes and ran out the door.
I literally sprinted all the way down North Highland. My brain felt scrambled with feelings of hurt and rage all mixed together and the more they came the harder I ran. I couldn’t see clearly, my feet were moving so fast. When I crossed North Ave and Freedom Parkway I was surprised by how fast I was still going. As I raced through the opening of the park, breakfast decided to leave my stomach. I came to a screeching halt and swallowed to stop it from making an appearance than decided I better slow down for a second.
I have a hard time pacing myself. Even when I was racing in high school, I had trouble with not going too fast in the beginning. When I decide to run again, I can’t keep a steady pace. I keep wanting to sprint again. So I do. I sprint and stop, sprint and stop until I make it through the park and back home again.
I shower and get dressed for work. I pulled on a dress and carefully did my make-up trying to feel better. It’s not working but at least it’s a start.
In the car I head to work. The tears come again and once I’m parked I decide to call my dad. He’s at work and I’m not sure what I’m going to say. I listen to the ringing on the other end and then his voicemail comes up. I hear the beep and start my aimless, meandering message.
“Hi daddy…Um…I was calling to say hi,… and it’s been four months today since Rob died…and everything is really hard at the moment.” I inhale and the tears start, leaving a long pause. “I’m sorry.” I stammered. “I, um…I have to go to work, and I don’t want to. I don’t know what I want to do. It just hurts a lot. I just needed to say that to you because I know you won’t try to say anything or tell me what I need to do, you’ll just listen. So yeah. I just wanted to say that and hi, and I love you.”
I hung up the phone and walked to work.
“Hi!” Jhoni exclaimed when I walked through the door.
“Hi darlin’.” I smiled and took my work tickets off the counter and walked to my station. I carefully pulled out my shears, blow dryer, combs and things and placed them in their respective spots as if I were handling the most precious objects I’ve ever touched.
I walked back to the desk to where Jhoni was and raked my fingers through her hair while staring out the door.
“How are you?” she asked.
“Not so good.” I shook my head.
“I’m sorry.” she replied.
We were quiet for a while before she turned to look at me and said, “I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m here for you anytime you need to talk.”
“Thank you.” I smiled. “That means a lot.”
Clients began walking through the door. I turned and walked to the break room. My co-worker is sitting at the table working on something when I pulled out another letter I wrote him.
“How are you?” he asks, stopping to look at me.
I shook my head and placed the letter next to his hand before walking out.
I wrote the letter last night. I explained the email I received and how I felt about it. I explained that since putting the food down I’ve found other subtle ways of hurting myself. I feel this weird, slight depression coming on. I don’t want to the be awake but I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to make the sparklies, but I miss them, I don’t want to work but I don’t want to be off. I don’t want to pay my bills or be a functioning member of society right now. I also explained my feelings about some things he said to me last week.
I walked up to the front desk again where Monique was talking to Jhoni.
“Hi! How are you?” she asked when I stood next to her.
I shook my head and looped my arm through hers, putting my head on her shoulder. “Not a good day.”
“I’m sorry.” she replied, putting her head on mine.
“Rob died four months ago today and then yesterday…” I let go of her arm and turned to face her, finishing my story.
“What?! Who says that?!” she said when I stopped talking.
“It just came at a bad time.” I replied, the tears starting. I wrapped my arms tightly around her neck and cried.
“I’m really sorry.” she says to me when I let her go.
“Thanks. Thanks for everything, for being amazing, for being here.”
“Of course!” she replies.
I smile and turn to leave to get coffee.
My first client is at 2pm. I have two glorious hours to write, and drink this fabulous mocha. I walk upstairs to the spa and sit on the little sofa I used to sit in when I wrote the majority of Rob’s letters. I was there maybe a minute before my co-worker appears, walking towards me.
“I’ve been looking all over for you!” he exclaims.
“I’m right here.” I smile, happy to see him. He sits next to me.
“I read your letter.”
I turn to face him. “Yeah?”
“I felt like I wrote that to myself, minus your personal stuff.”
This lights me up. “Really?”
“Yeah, I think that’s my favorite so far.”
He starts talking and I listen without saying a word. Even when he stops talking I don’t say anything. Nothing to say really.
My phone rings. It’s Jhoni.
“Hey Melissa, you have an add-on at 1:15.”
“Ok, thanks.” I put the phone down. “Client coming in soon.” I tell him.
“Me too.”
We walk back downstairs.
My client is early. It’s good to see her. I haven’t seen her since January. The tears want to start when I’m blow drying her but I blink them back.
Stuart (favorite client) is my next one. I tell him about today and last night and about my co-worker, then returning to last night.
“Ya know, it’s crazy hard for me to really open up to people. I realize that when I do and I get hurt it hurts really really badly and I don’t know what to do with it but close up again because I’m too scared to feel that again. I know it’s not what I need to do but it’s the automatic response.” I tell him.
“People will not always like or accept you. That doesn’t mean change who you are.” he replies.
I know his words will sink in better at a later time when the hurt subsides but I’m grateful to hear him say that right now.
Work ends. I walk up to my co-worker.
“Are you going straight home?” I ask.
“Not straight home.”
I nod. “Want to hang out later?”
“Yeah. Um, meet at your house?”
“Sure.”
We both get into our cars and leave. Once I’m home I change clothes and talk to mom until he arrives.
“Whatcha want to do?” he asks, sitting the recliner that he’s called his favorite chair.
I’m on the couch. “Um, I really don’t care. We can stay here or walk around. There’s this fabulous playground down the street.” I giggle.
“Let’s go there.” he stands.
I take him the long way there. We talk about our day and the conversation moves again to our habits until he says “I don’t want to talk about this tonight. Let’s talk anything but this.”
“Deal.” I replied.
We arrive at the playground a few minutes later. We both go in opposite directions exploring different things then come back together. He pushes me around on this circle thing then we get up to swing on the swing set. I wanted to do these things with Rob. I think he thought I was silly for asking.
“Hey, check this out!” My co-worker piped up. He had already run off to another spot.
“Good luck with that!” I laughed as he climbed into this twirly apparatus.
Once he got momentum going he was spinning and laughing. “Here, try it.” he said getting off.
I climbed in and oh yeah, once I got going it was good stuff. “C’mere!” I said to him, slowing down. He was investigating something else.
“I know what you’re thinking!”
“Then c’mere!” I laughed.
He ran over and climbed in with me.
“It’s gonna go really fast.” I giggled.
“I know. Hang on.”
He gets us moving and the momentum from two people being on it makes us go so fast, everything but our faces becomes a blur.
“This was a good idea.” he tells me as he carefully untangles himself from the apparatus.
“Good.” I smile.
We leave and start to walk down Virginia Ave again.
“You know, one day I should bring my skateboard down and skate with you. We could go to Grant Park. They’ve got some amazing hills.”
“Oh my gosh! I was going to ask you the same thing! I don’t know about those hills though…” I laugh.
“It’ll be fine! Maybe we could go to the zoo…”
“I like the plan.” I smile, remembering Rob and I talking about going to the zoo. Things kept getting in the way and it was always “maybe next week.”
We kept walking, talking about a motorcycle he once had and about our current vehicles. I changed the subject and asked if he could be anywhere right now where would he be?
“Hmm. I don’t know.” he got quiet and then said “Out of the country for sure. I’ve never done that. Maybe Amsterdam.”
I nod. Somehow we started talking about Denver CO. He said he needed a vacation. I told him about my dad working for Delta and some of the adventures I’ve had.
“I’ve never been to Denver. One of these days we’ll have to go.” I smile.
“Oh yeah! I love checking out new restaurants and… oh sorry.” he stopped.
“What?”
“Your food issue. I always seem to talk about going to eat somewhere.”
I laugh. “It’s ok. It’s my problem to deal with. I still gotta eat!”
“I know, I just don’t want to make it worse.”
“You’re not.” I laugh.
Back at my house we’re sharing a chair in my kitchen scrolling through my music on iTUNES. I told him about the song by Band of Horses that I heard with Rob at my friend Amy’s house.
“I need this one! I haven’t heard it before!” he exclaims.
“I’ll burn it for you.”
Midnight had made an appearance. Neither of us could believe how late it had gotten.
“I’ve gotta go. Long drive ahead of me.” he says, standing up.
“Ok.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I stand and he hugs me hard.
“Yup. Be careful.”
“I will.”
I watch him walk out and I close and lock my door. I suddenly realize I’m alone and I miss his company already. Time spent with him is like a warm blanket on the coldest day of the year. I have to remind myself to be careful before falling into bed.