Today I visited the grave of a man that I fell in love with many years ago. It didn’t work out but we stayed friends. Most of my poems are about him, I guess he was my muse.
It’s been one of those days I’m afraid.
I left a piece of climbing gear and a Radiohead CD – The Bends (it’s ok, I have two copies).
Shit head was still with me at this point. Goodness only knows why I took him there.
Grief is an odd thing, it never really goes. It’s a bit like shingles, crops up occasionally and floors you. I can’t describe how his death still hurts me, how I’ve sat up at night and tried to reach him. Today, at his graveside I felt nothing. I was hoping to feel his presence but I didn’t, it was just a headstone and a pile of mud. I deadheaded some of the flowers and dug my hands into the earth. Touched his name with my fingers and swore at him for dying. We used to have good chats. He taught me to climb.
We lived our lives in a strange parallel. The same music collection, an obsessional devotion to Radiohead, we both had sons and went on to have daughters (born in the same school year) and his daughter’s name is my daughter’s middle name, we both had a near death experience in the same month, he moved ten doors away from me, he died on my son’s birthday, he was always nearby.
I didn’t speak to him in the six months before he died, I wasn’t allowed to…. The weeks leading up to his death, I could feel it every time I passed by his front door. I could smell it and had the feeling that black tendrils of tar crawled out into the street. It was oppressive, walking past his house was oppressive.
The day he died, I felt something lift. I can’t explain it but I knew he had gone even before anyone had told me. I walked past his house and it felt empty, the smell had gone. Then came the pain in my chest, an unbearable burning wrench.
I have let him go. I have moved on but that doesn’t mean I don’t shed a tear from time to time. You know the feeling, when you just want to talk to them and you can’t because they’re not there anymore. It hits you like a dull thump to the chest. I’m sure he would have had some choice words to say about my life.
It’ll be nice to have a rest from all this pain but someone told me to count my blessings and they’re right, I have much to feel blessed about.
The Sun still shines, even on a cloudy day. You just can’t see it but one day, the clouds will blow away and you’ll feel it’s warmth again.
Love, tea and hugs