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L gave me the number to the Memorial place that C's sis had used. She'd put down a down-payment on the headstone, but wasn't sure how she was going to pay for the rest of it. It's been such a busy week, I hadn't had time to call them until lunch today. Thay had to call his sis to get her verbal OK before talking to me (which I expected) and I paid off what was left on the headstone; was about what I was expecting. It was something I felt like I had to do for my Boy. I didn't expect the emotions that took a hold of me. Doing this was such a final thing - the period at the end of a painful sentence. And in the afternoon mail was the pamphlet from his funeral, and a DVD with a copy of the recording they took of his funeral. I think it will be awhile before I can watch that. Most days are better. I can look back and think of him and the time we did have together and smile, but.... I know there will always be that "but" -- those moments that sneak up on you from nowhere.

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.

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.

Have a friend who will take me to the cemetery where C is burred tomorrow. Taking the spray of flowers to lay on his grave, along with a not-too-personal note. If I'd had more time, I would have had them get roses that were a bit more lavender than pink, and bit whiter than cream --- but considering this was essentially a rush, as I want to see him to say goodbye before Christmas, this will do. I still think it's lovely. Lots to say to him tomorrow. I hope that somewhere, he can hear me. I miss you baby; your Daddy will always miss his Boy.

This is copied from a status update. Wasn't thinking clearly when I posted it, so put it there instead of here in the blog: My heart is broken this weekend. The man I had been dating off and on who lives about an hour away died last month -- and I just found out about it this Friday night; almost a month later. He works in retail and this is always a crazy time so not hearing from him for a bit wasn't unusual, but that bit got longer... then longer. When I sent him another txt on Friday evening it wouldn't go through, and something in the back of my mind said, "search online." That's when I found his obit. The day after we last talked he was the store getting groceries and collapsed. He died the next day of an aneurysm brought on by high blood pressure, which I know he had been treating. Funeral was just before Thanksgiving, and I missed it completely. wasn't even able to say goodbye. The biggest drawback of not being on any social media sites like Facebook. He was a private person, and I doubt he told his sister much about us; and without an online footprint how could she have found me? and if he didn't tell her, how would she have known to even look? He was my baby, my reason for being optimistic about the future; about our future together. We'd been taking things slow because he'd been burned so badly by his last relationship. We'd planned to get together after the holiday insanity passed; our first private time together -- all our other dates had been out in public, and we were limited to brief kisses and discretely holding hands (the joy of small town living in the South). I was finally going to tell him, "I love you" instead of just hinting around the edges. Now I'll never be able to do that. My only consolation is knowing that our last conversation we told each other that we made each other happy; something not easy for two people both fighting depression. I'm going to miss you my baby -- I already do, so so very much. "Daddy" is going to miss never being able to show his boy how much he meant to me. Never going to be able to hold you in my arms again, never taste your sweet lips on mine, never hold you close and snuggle up together. I love you C, and I always will. 😢 💔

I had problems falling asleep last night and this popped into my head unbidden and fully formed. Then insisted I write it down before it would let me rest (you can picture whatever Muse is to blame standing behind me, his sharpened quill-pen ✒️ at my throat) : My beautiful rose made of shattered glass, glittering in the sunlight and morning dew. Beautiful from afar, but made of sharp points and rough edges which cut & scar when you try to hold it too close, hold it too tightly. Your fragile beauty falling apart in the heat of the midday sun. I wrote that thinking of Mr P, who I knew before C and I got our relationship going. Sexually-fluid, gender-queer, skin like smooth chocolate, beautiful lips, a body that was… mmmmm… did I mention the boy was pretty? Damn was he pretty. Lace & corsets; mascara & lip gloss; muscles & strength. Mostly, but not entirely, gay; mostly, but not entirely, a top. Starting in a hole he had no hand in digging and determined to climb out, but he kept sliding back in. Looking for a Daddy with a firm hand and love but afraid of finding what he needed. Someone called him a Butch Queen, which I'm sure they did not mean as a compliment, but which is probably the best label for him. Though he hates labels as they bind you as much as they identify you and he never wanted to be tucked neatly into any box. The trust between us finally wore away but I still wonder how he is and what may have been. He lost himself to the shadows in the hole and I am afraid it will bury him.

Something during my trip up to see mom and my Aunt on Friday has triggered a full-blown allergy attack. If it weren't for my stubborn insistence that I will have my bœuf bourguignonne for lunch I'd still be in bed. But... as I so want it for lunch it has to start now. One of the reasons I rarely make it -- too much of a pain in the ass to bother for one person. However, it's what I was going to make my Boy last year before our plans fell apart, and what I was going to make him for Valentines this year before.... before the aneurysm. I have to make it -- it's part of my dealing with his no longer being here. My head is stuffy and I feel miserable and am probably on the verge of a full-blown sinus infection but I'm going to make the d** stew, eat it for lunch, and think of all the good times I had with my Boy in the short time we did have together.

My Boy's headstone is - finally - ready; HOWEVER -- they are going to have to wait "until the ground is a bit drier" before they can install it. I just want him to have it before his birthday on the 27th. At least they didn't screw it up a third time. It does help some to know that it's ready. Extremely annoyed at my best friend who, not intending to be a bitch she says, used the word "antzy" to describe my feelings on it's continuing delay. More storms moving in overnight into tomorrow. High winds, moderate risk of night-time quick spin-up tornadoes (those that pop up and dissipate quickly), and half-dollar sized hail.

Finally realized that I'm going to have to finish painting the loft the same way I started: playing songs of love and loss, grieving for my boy, and loosing myself in the painting. It's the only way the loft can get done and -- more importantly -- I think it's one of the things that has to be closed for me to let him go. Though I should have left Rebecca Ferguson's version of "I'll Count the Days" off the playlist. 😭 The other is for his headstone to finally be installed. Sent an email to the friend I'd been talking to. A couple of weeks ago she said it would a week or two before the 3rd one [since they F*d the first two] would be ready; then FOUR to SIX WEEKS before it got installed. I'm still hoping it's there in time for his birthday on Memorial Day. Finished the first coat and stopping for lunch, pain Rx (storms moving in), and a Xanax (because I'm not so stupid as to not realize I need one).

Need a vacation -- too much stress. Reading "Between the Shadow and the Soul" has brought back memories of my cub. Wish I knew where he was, but he stopped talking to me a couple of years ago. My cub is the one person I've loved with all my heart who I knew would never love me back the same way. He stayed in my apartment for about a month while he was trying to get things together. Always tried to be circumspect about when he was going out, to not hurt my feelings, but I always knew. Thing is, I loved him enough that I wanted him to be happy -- even if that happiness wasn't with me. It would have still killed a little bit of my soul had he found it though. Enough maudlin memories for the night.

Went tot the performance of Ailey II last night that had originally been C's and my's big night out. Glad friends (IRL and online) encouraged me to go. I did have to leave at 2nd intermission, but that was because of my joints and not my mental state. If you ever get a chance to see them, or the main Alvin Ailey troupe, do so - they're wonderful. Touch & Agree was their second of the three sets. Music was about 2x as loud as it should have been, but overall it was an enjoyable evening -- barring my joints; and the little incident right at the start of the show. Their very first dance segment of their first set used a fog machine; which set off the smoke alarms❕ Took them a few minutes to get the fog cleared out and the alarms turned off (though probably not as long as it felt). I felt bad for the dancers, but they were able to start back up again like they hadn't been interrupted [they finished the first segment before the house lights came back on and the stage cleared]. Touch & Agree was moving in a way that all good art should be. Brought back the sweeter memories of my Boy, and made me smile. 💖 Did have a brief moment of sadness this morning when I woke up alone instead if with my Boy in my arms, but work distracted me from that. Still "candidate season" and the weather caused delays again today for the early morning outbound flight. Flight in tomorrow should be fine, but the return flight on Tuesday -- and the inbound flights for the last candidate -- could be... um... "interesting". They're predicting snow, and the line between a dusting and several inches is way too close to here for comfort.

It is done. They were able to place my Boy's headstone yesterday. C's sis sent me an email at almost midnight last night that I didn't see until lunch today. It looks good. It feels.... relief? I had really wanted / needed it to be installed before his birthday on Monday, and was afraid they weren't going to be able to do it because of the weather. His sis was wanting it done before his birthday as well. If the state doesn't wash away, I'll go down on Monday for his birthday, and be able to look at it first hand. 💔

SP and I bought promise / engagement rings today. His is 10mm wide - 6mm black band in the center, with two small silver bands on the outside, spaced slightly off the main ring; mine is a 6mm black band. It was good. We did not go to the cemetery today like I had originally thought I would. The last two years I had very strong "intuition" on what day and time I should be there. This year... nothing. That really upset me yesterday; then felt bad about being upset about it when SP and I are almost at our 6-month anniversary (the 27th -- which is also C's birthday -- which hasn't helped any). I think that lack of "intuition" was C's way of telling me to let him go. Not entirely of course, I'll always love him, but I can't look back and look forward too. Times, like yesterday, I still feel very torn by my emotions towards my Boy and my Darling; my past, and [hopefully] my future.