Sunday Afternoon – I’m watching an old John Lennon interview/concert (classic collections) and writing this ‘blog’ and wondering why the fuck am I writing ? Who would want to read about the mundane goings on in my life? Probably no-one as its just at this point, another glorified ‘face-book status update; but hey, I’m writing for me, myself and I really. I don’t interrupt, or contradict, or argue or answer back… so I’m a pretty good audience you could say:-)
My mind keeps drifting backwards; to Davy… when it got to the first week after he’d died, then the second Saturday, then third and fourth and its just passed five weeks (and one day) since he died. People still ask me ‘how are you’, but what can I say? That my heart feels like its carrying a millstone and dragging me under; that by the way, when you see me in the water, I’m drowning not waving? No. I can’t say that and its not what anybody wants to hear anyway. I think people expect you to have ‘got over it by now’. Like ‘ it ‘ was some bad case of the man-flu… take a spoonful of Benylin and you’ll be right… Only people who have lost somebody VERY close, where that loss has shaken them to the very fibres of their being… where they’ve lost a person who nobody else came above, could come above them, only a person who has experienced that intensity of pain and the gaping void that you are left to live with, only THEY will know instinctively, intuitively, that this isn’t something that you ‘get over’, or be’ alright now’ about… but a slow, arduous process of really resurrecting yourself out of your own dying. Because a part of you does die with them… and a part of you wishes you hadn’t been left alone to live without them…. I’m not depressed per se. It might soind like that, I’m just in pain still and trying to get through each day, one at a time, until one day, I might reflect on the fact that the millstone hadn’t weighed so heavily… that’s what I’m waiting for. When the desolation of feeling completely isolated, doesn’t pain quite so much. It makes me shudder and catch my breath to think that there is no longer someone out there in the ‘big bad world’, loving me, caring about me, worrying for my health if I have a brain aneurysm again. Nobody sending their love through messages with friends in common and acquaintances… nobody asking where’s ‘yer mam’ and dropping in to see me with little anecdotes, jokes and sometimes little thoughtful gifts. A pen, a bracelet, a bar of chocolate, a packet of smokes. All the little things that when you add them up, make the sum total of your life’s summary of love for that person; their love for you… take that away and what do you have left? A mighty chasm and a black abyss of ‘aloneness’. But you gotta keep your ‘best face on’, nod to the platitudes and foot your best foot forward. And as this song was mentioned the other day, which for me is quite poignant, just gotta live your life going thru the motions, giving a performance worthy of an oscar… but doing it all ‘Alone again… Naturally… ‘


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