The tears starting making their presence early Friday as I started getting a flood of "Hey....how are you holding up?" texts and emails. I also had to call Arlington National Cemetery to find out exactly where Chris was buried because I couldn't remember from the last time I was there. The man on the phone was very nice and I had to stop talking and clear my throat a few times to make sure I didn't lose it on the phone with him. Luckily I was successful and made it until I put the phone handset back on its cradle. "Ugh...", I thought, "this is going to be a fantastic day".
I made it through the rest of my work day dry-eyed so that was good. I also hung out with The Yankee for a bit and all I did was apologize for how weird I was being, haha. Before we left to go run some errands I must have changed my outfit six times, and God bless him, he didn't say a word. The whole evening he was very reassuring and calm. Haha, poor thing, he was probably panicking the whole time. At the end of the night he gave me a sweet kiss and told me to text him if I needed anything. I thought to myself "HA....you have no idea....".
I tossed and turned all night and woke up before my alarm at 7. The cemetery opens at 8 am every day so I wanted to get there as early as I could. I got up and fished out a gray sweater that I bought Chris last year that happens to also look pretty decent on me and wore it. It was his favorite. If you have access to any of my pictures or go to this blog you can see it because apparently it isn't tacky to have these pictures up still.........but I digress. I headed over to my parents' bar to get the champagne that my dad saved for our wedding. I wanted to bring just enough that he and I could have some together, the way it should have been. I popped the cork and poured it into a water bottle. I may or may not have also had a taste before it was re-corked.
On my way up I stopped at Starbucks and got a iced caramel machiato, another of Chris' favorites, because I imagined that he might have had one that day. And, you know, I felt good. I felt like this was going to be pretty cathartic and sweet in a way. I was also terrified and kept imagining me completely losing my shit at the grave. Well, neither of those things happened. I went to take the exit to the cemetery when I saw that there was a cop blocking the exit. I pulled up next to him and this is how our exchange went,
Me: Excuse me officer, may I ask you a question?
Cop: WHAT?!
Me: ......I'm trying to get to the cemetery....
Cop: Nope. It's closed for the next 3 hours because of a bike race.
Me: Are you kidding?
Cop: Does it look like I'm kidding?
Me: Okie dokie, fuck you too then!
And then I pulled back out into traffic. And I lost it. Completely. I was heartbroken, angry, embarrassed, horrified, frustrated, confused, exasperated, just too many feelings to name. I had no idea how to get myself turned around because I'm not familiar with that area and all I wanted to do was ram my car into the side wall. I didn't, so don't worry. But all I kept thinking was "How could this happen? I couldn't have him in life and I still can't have him in death?!" I also kept thinking that all I wanted to do was go home and set all of his clothes on fire, burn all the photos and just forget that I had ever met him. If I was to have absolutely no interaction with him at all, then so be it. I'd forget. I'm still really angry at him. I don't know who I'm angry with. I'm just angry.
I called my mom and basically yelled and sobbed the entire way home. I went back to the bar and got the rest of the Champagne so I could finish it for breakfast. I got home and you could tell that everyone was on eggshells. I felt bad because my stepmom had cooked a really great breakfast but I couldn't stomach anything but a few potatoes. I could feel myself getting antsy and losing it so I ran up to my room and screamed so hard into my pillow that eventually all that came out was air and sobs. I hate that I can't scream at him. He deserves to hear it.
I went back downstairs and hung out with my brothers for a bit. Them making me laugh and the champagne was making me feel better. We also started gathering our stuff together to go out on our boat. It was absolutely gorgeous day and my parents didn't want me sitting in the house. I didn't want to either.
The rest of the day was going great, I was successfully drunk by 1230 and the boat was so much fun! We decided to go to this local marina restaurant and as we're pulling in, I noticed everyone got kind of weird for a minute. And then I saw it- there was a wedding reception set up on the back deck. Paper wedding bell and everything.
And you know, I had to laugh. I can always appreciate irony and damn if this isn't ironic. All I needed was Alanis Morrissett to show up and sing about ten thousand spoons.
We finished our late lunch there and decided to ride out on the river for a bit and then head down to another local river bar. We had just ordered our drinks when I checked my phone and noticed that I had a comment. And then I saw this:
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| This is Chris' grandmother. Apparently she is okay with all of Chris' friends and family seeing things like this but apparently I'm not allowed to defend myself and my feelings. So, here ya go. |
When my parents (tried) talked to her, all she did was blame me. Told them that I treat her absolutely horribly (again, haven't spoken to her since July 10th) and all this other delusional stuff. Oh, and the "secrets" that she's referring to? I guess she told my parents that Chris was still married. Yeah. I knew he was briefly married before but they officially divorced in 2009. No secret. But why would you EVER say that to me? Like seriously?!
I broke. I broke hard. My brothers had to see me in a way that they've never seen me before and I feel very guilty for that. And that is the only thing I feel guilty for in this situation.
I, in no way, feel guilty about anything that I have said or done while Chris was still living and after. I have been as honest, loving and human as I could be. I did everything I could for him and for us. I loved him and took care of him. Obviously, some people can't handle that but that's not on my conscience. I can sleep at night.
I'm glad that day is dead and buried. I can start to really move on with my life. I know that holidays and his birthday will be hard this year but I don't have anything else looming in the future.
I'm still very angry. I'm not really sure when I'm going to stop but I know that one day I will. I have faith that one day I'll get my answer.
This is my life and I tell how it happens. I fight for what happens. I learn from what happens.
