I cried in the night. Couldn’t stop. This morning I realized it’s been exactly nine years since Andrew died. Well of course. That’s why I mentioned his name yesterday. Somewhere deep inside me this anniversary was swarming around in my sub-consciousness. Nine years. If I were in a fairy tale I would die today. Only now I don’t want to.
Or at least I didn’t a few days ago. Now I’m not so sure. Hamish and I practically said nothing to each other the rest of yesterday. Will I ever be truly whole again? Something really did die inside me that day nine years ago. For so long, I was always able to squash those feelings that welled up inside me, pushing them back down again under the surface. With so many years of practice I’d gotten good at it. Then I met Hamish, and as soon as I started to feel a bit, everything broke apart. I cried more, I angered more. Maybe Sophie was right, my avoidance of grieving meant I hadn’t properly grieved in the first place. How awful having to face everything I’d spent so many years avoiding!
And yet, my feelings for, Hamish, which opened such a chasm of pain, gave me so much soothing comfort too. If it wasn’t for Hamish I would never have been able to get past my past and feel anything again. The first time I could talk about Andrew and not cry shocked me. Hamish always encouraged me to let everything out, tears and all, to talk about that part of me buried in denial. And now, Hamish is going away from me. Oh lordy, I can’t bear the thought of going through something like that again!
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