Fae Briona

So much for a relaxing day off. We're bringing in candidates for a few open faculty positions. Flight for the one leaving today has been delayed / cancelled. Waiting on automatic call-back from the airline to cancel the last two legs, as the candidate has made other arrangements to get back home (weird set of coincidences, but at least they have a way back).

Had my second counseling session yesterday. Honestly not sure how effective they are. Things are, ever so very slowly, getting better. Getting easier to think of the good times and the memories without hyperventilating or collapsing into a pile of tears. Doesn't look that professional when it happens at work. Biggest hurdles for me are still the guilt of not having told him that I loved him -- even though I know he knew I did, and I know he felt the same way about me; and letting go of the idealized version of our next date, which would have been so very soon, when we had so many firsts planned. The feeling of having waited too long for those things -- even though I know that if I had pushed him too fast he would have bolted and ran. He was so afraid of being hurt again. A special place in hells for someone who hurts someone else that badly. Still odd random things that will trigger a wave of pain and grief. I love you my baby - you will always be your daddy's boy. 💗

I know this is easier said than done but.... FIND A NEW DOCTOR ASAP! And I'm sorry about the health issues.

Good chapter but.... a bit difficult for me to read at the moment. 😢

Reading Changes now.

Oh the joy of family

You know it's your fault I'm not getting painting done in the loft because you posted this? 😉

Great start to the story. Don't think I ever read the original - though it wasn't necessary to get into this one; will have to look it up while I wait for the next chapter.

Got a second email from her. Both of them have made it easier to think of the good memories that I will always cherish. He had told her he was dating someone in a "somewhat long-distance" relationship, so that silenced the voice of depression that had started whispering in the back of my mind that they didn't call because regardless of what he had said it was all a lie and I had read more into it that was there -- I knew that voice was wrong but... the self-doubt of depression can be insidious. She was happy to know he was dating someone who loved him enough to be patient and try to help him through the fear of commitment that she knew he had; the fear of being hurt again.

Got an email this evening from a mutual friend of C and his sister. His sis isn't doing that well dealing with the loss; neither am I to be honest. C was a very private person, with everyone it seems, so I spent the last hour trying to decide how much to say and what I shouldn't. I did say that he was a man I loved dearly, that we had been dating off and on the the last several years, and that he was someone I saw a future with. I included the last selfie he sent me (G-rated) and the pic of the flowers I took after I put them on his grave, along with the pic he sent me when we first started dating - a time that seems like it was yesterday, even though it was so many years ago.

Kinky 👅

Spoke with someone at work I'm close with, who had known about my relationship with C, and told her what had happened. She offered to get in touch with his sister ("M") on Facebook -- as I don't have a Facebook account (or Instagram, or twitter, or....). She got a response. M did see the flowers I had left for C when I visited his grave, which makes me... well, not "happy" but pleased? They're waiting on a response from the VA on the headstone, and hope to hear back soon, though with the gov. shutdown I think that's optimistic. Work friend just introduced me as someone who cared about him deeply, not as the man he'd been dating; she did pass on my private email address (with my permission), so I hope M does contact me at some point. She hasn't been doing well -- they were extremely close. It sounded from t he conversation that I was correct in thinking that she didn't know who I was. He was a very private person, and I don't think he talked to his family that much about his private life. He was out, but I know there was some baggage there from when he was younger that -- for him at least -- made things more complicated. So it doesn't surprise me that he would be short on details of his dating life. This is the financial side of me, but I've also wondered in the last few days if she realized how much his Alberto Vargas print collection was worth. A winter storm moved in on Thursday, which started Wed. night. Had the automatic though, "I should send C a txt telling him to drive home safe" -- then the moment of sharp pain when I realized I couldn't do that. I know I mourn not just the loss of a friend, and a man I cared for very much; but the loss of my dreams for our future, my hopes of how things would work out, my longing for our first "private time" that was supposed to be next month.... Some of those hopes/dreams may never have materialized, but the loss is still there. The potential that is no longer. 💔

The darkness of depression and anxiety can be insidious, and sneak up around you when you aren't looking. Keep fighting, and find your light. Never injured myself sneezing but I have, once, cracked a rib while coughing. That's not fun.

Painted more of the loft today. It's been cathartic - and also somewhat painful. The loft ceiling slopes from 8' at the front of the room, overlooking the street, to just 27" on the back wall. And the stuff that was in the loft is in a big pile in the center of the room, covered with a tarp. So... not much room to work, and even though I can paint it sitting down and scooting back and forth the hips still don't like it. Will need a second coat, but that will have to go on tomorrow.

For the most part, things are better. Having a rough patch now, but trying to get through it (and have been talking about it some on my blog). I know, eventually, I'll see the other side. I'm glad you found your light - may it keep burning brightly.

October 12, 2018 was the 20th anniversary of Matthew Shepard's death. Had a long conversation with a friend [will always miss you my baby] on how things have -- and haven't -- changed in that time. Shepard was interred on that date, 20 years later, in the Washington National Cathedral in D.C. After 20 years, it was still the only location his mother thought that his place of internment wouldn't be desecrated or vandalized. 😢 Between 2016 & 2017 there was an 86% increase in anti-LGBTQ homicides, according to the Anti-Violence Project.

“So this really still happens.” I live in a rural area of the South; growing up was "fun". About 20 years ago [realizing it's been that long makes me feel old] I went to a funeral with a friend, who was there to attend the funeral of one of his friends. His friend had been killed in a "robbery." He'd recently come out to the two people whom he thought were his best friends. A few days later, when they three of them were alone in the friends house, they stabbed him 32 times. Only three of those 32 were fatal on their own. I've always hoped one of them happened near the first of the attack, so he didn't have to suffer through all or most of it. It was labeled a "robbery" because the two "friends" took his boom-box with them when they left -- and to protect the "reputation" of the family. I never found out how their trial went. Pretty much no news coverage of it at all.

Finally switching out some light fixtures in my loft, which means once that is done I can start to repaint, replacing the hideous colors that were there when I moved in. So this afternoon I cranked up the music (hopefully not enough to bother the neighbors), started some prep-work, and did a couple of test patches. I'm a twisted individual who actually finds painting a room to be relaxing; and though some may have found my song choices to be a an odd choice for relief from grief, the music and work was calming. Some of the songs I listened to, if you want a glimpse of my current head-space: Candi Stanton: He Called Me Baby One eskimO: Kandi George Michael: A Different Corner; Waiting For That Day / You Can't Always Get What You Want Moby: When It's Cold I'd Like to Die [lyrics are depressing, but letting the melody wash over you is odly comforting; he's also called it one of the best songs he's ever written] Jimmy Sommrville: For a Friend [this one did make me cry, but in a way that was releasing; a goodbye through music] Rebecca Ferguson: Nothing's Real but Love; Teach Me How to be Loved Sophie B. Hawkins: Did We Not Choose Each Other I should have done this earlier; I'll need to do it again.

I am seeing both chapter and story title in my updates: [name] has commented on Chapter [Number] of [Story]

Probably, though I'm not sure she entirely understands my reluctance to talk to C's sis. I told her we'd wait a few days and see if the cemetery called back with an answer then go from there.

My friend S had me call the cemetery yesterday, to check to see if C's family had ordered a headstone yet, or if they needed more cash -- those things are expensive. The cemetery sent a letter to his father, but I think they have the wrong address (they sent it within this state but last I knew, from not too many month's ago, his father lived one state over); but you'd think they would have confirmed the address they have on file??? They'll send another letter (to the same, possibly incorrect, address) saying that there is an anonymous person willing to assist with the funds needed for the headstone. S said I should just call his sister. I don't think she understands why I can't do that -- not now at least. I know - at least I think I know - the most likely reason why she didn't call me, but...... it still hurts that she didn't. And due to living with depression my entire life, there's this little voice whispering in the back of my mind that says maybe she didn't call because in spite of everything we talked about and everything we said through txt, C really didn't feel about me the way I think, the way I know, he did. We didn't discuss his family much. I'd have to hunt up her number online, but I could find her if I tried. A final reason is when we visited his grave, there was nothing there -- no other flowers, nothing; just bare dirt. It hurt so much to see that. I had expected to have to have found at least one small group of artificial flowers at least. I just don't think I could talk to C's sis without either breaking down or loosing my temper - or doing both. I hate feeling like an outsider intruding into "their business" That was at 3pm. Off and on throughout the rest of last night I had waves of crushing grief slam into me. Grief I haven't felt since the night I found his obit online. Surprised my blood pressure is still stable. Going to stop typing now. There seems to be water falling from my eyes.

I can relate this year. I always get more depressed from around Thanksgiving through New Year's Eve and this year, with the recent death of my boyfriend, the relentless cheer of Christmas can be difficult. Sometimes, it's not "day by day" but "hour by hour". Florence & The Machine has a song with a couple of lines I like listening to when things are bad - Delilah, from the album High as Hope (entire album is about a journey through self-healing". The refrain is: 'Cause I'm gonna be free and I'm gonna be fine (Maybe not tonight)"

For me, because I am a giant geek, it was a shortened version of the Litany Against Fear from the Dune series: "I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see it's path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain." I hate panic / anxiety attacks -- and silly questions from well meaning friends like, "what caused it?"; a question that often doesn't have an obvious answer.

Survived the visit home, and glad to be HOME. My mom, who's 79, kind of surprised me when I was leaving by telling me she would have understood if I had skipped out this year, but that she was happy I was still able to come up. I really missed getting a "Merry Christmas Daddy" txt this morning, along with a slightly inappropriate comment about how my Boy would have woken me up. Those always made me smile 🙂. Unfortunately, my best friend has surprised me by seeming to fail to understand why the first major holiday without C might be a difficult one.

Happy anniversary - may you have many years of love and trust ahead of you.