My first husband was never really my husband. In the world of drugs every dude needs an old lady. Their ride or die. For years I was his. Even when I wasn’t I was. Our souls entwined. Yesterday I was able to have closure around my first loss. Many times I have pointed the finger directly at myself. How could I not? I felt as though if I had done this, said this, tried this, stayed there, moved him. A million ifs.
As I sat in that restaurant in the city I couldn’t stop looking to the sky. I could feel you all around. There I was, sitting with your Mom! Your only true north. A flood of memories. At her townhouse. Arriving to the only home either of us really knew at that point. Your vidalia onion dressing that you loved so much and she always made sure was on the table. When she moved we both sobbed driving away. Even now the thought of literally the carpet on her stairs brings such peace. I thought of Florida. Watching a Christmas Story at least twenty times until we ran out of drugs and went into a panic. That night dope sick as fuck I found you sitting in the front door asking for direction. Who were you talking to?
Did you know?
What is your plan?
Are you here?
God it’s so obvious that I need you.
I thought of this one particular morning. I couldn’t tell you exactly when but we lived with Linda. In the inferno of our addictions we still stuck together.
We did then.
I remember waking up feeling horrible as every morning prior for years. As the chill in my bones grew I looked across at him. I watched as he took shallow breaths. The sunlight dancing on his cheek. That amazing Colorado breeze never too hot or too cold. Studying the freckles on his shoulders (they were my absolute favorite). Wondering how he got so many red hairs in his facial hair. Inhaling deeply. Many times when I was sick the smell of his skin would ground and comfort me. I remember tears streaming on to my pillow silently. In that moment I knew I would lose him. I had been loosing him for a year previous but I knew. I whispered that I loved him and I wished I could be more. “You are my world”
He snores himself awake.
Our eyes meet.
“Fuck I feel like shit. Let’s go strawberry shortcake.”
Just like that I allowed you to walk out of my life. Day after day.
I’m listening Monks