Nothingness

I am not sure if that is a real word or one I just made up but thats what today has been, a whole day of nothing.  I got up at a reasonable time even though I was up till very late last night.

I pottered around this morning, in fact I have for most of the day.  I guess with everything that has happened over the weekend I sort of felt a little lost so amongst other things Steve has been on my mind a lot again today.

I have to start looking at financial stuff in detail soon too, two peoples outgoings with one persons wage isn't easy and Steve has not made things easy for me, I guess the plans we had made were just too long term because we had no reason to doubt a longer prognosis, lesson learned I think and learned the hard way too.  The thing is it has all lost it's relevance now he has gone.  I just want to bury my head in the sand until it all goes away and, as it will never go away then I will have my head there for a very long time.

I have been thinking about something said on the Brain Tumour course I was at last week for http://www.btbuddies.org.uk/ plan the fun in your week.  How can I plan fun?  Anything fun and exciting and interesting I have done for the last 6 years has included Steve.  Before Steve my 'fun' used to be dating and partying 6 or 7 nights a week but that doesn't sound attractive anymore, I have been there and done that.  Whats fun?  What fun can a Gay Widower have?  I want some and I want to be happy on the inside not just presenting a smiling face to the outside but I don't know how.

I was thinking earlier, quite a few people have seen pictures from the weekend and have said how happy I look, how much fun it all seemed to be and how Steve would be pleased.  I suppose it hurt a little hearing that I "look" happy  Isn't it though funny how easily fooled we are, just painting on a smile makes people think we are happy but they have no idea what is going on inside.  Before I start on this train of thought I know I will sound bitter and ungrateful so I won't even start, I guess I am still hurting.  The world is moving on as it should do, people are picking themselves up and being inspired to live their life to the fullest because they have heard and seen Steve do the same.  I want the world to stop, right here right now just stop, let me cling on to the fragments of Steve I have left,  memories, pictures and thoughts, I don't want anyone or anything to move as it may unsettle the dust that is falling around me, I can't turn the clock back but I dont want it to go forward either.  What will the future hold?  I know what I want it to hold and when my head is in a "good place" I can see the vision clearly, right now though it is not, the vision is blurred by the tears in my eyes, my heart is scarred beyond recognition and I start to wonder why we thought knowing this was coming would make it easier to deal with.  I can't imagine hurting more,  My chest aches constantly, feeling hollow has become the norm and this sense of being lost is becoming all too familiar.

People say I am doing well but I wonder if I am dealing with it well or just masking it well.  I don't know if I am sliding down that slippery slope to depression or whether I am bumbling around it and making slow progress away from it.  I don't know and that is part of what is difficult.  I like to be in control and I am not.  Steve liked to be in control and he wasn't either, neither of us liked uncertainty other than that which we had planned, like taking 'pot luck' on which  jokes to tell at a gig or whether the motorway route or dual carriageway would be quicker.  I can't control these emotions yet.  I guess they are like a new pet, they need to be trained to be kept in check, sometimes I spot them, grab them, and put them away but other times they just creep up on me and consume me.  I suppose I need more time to be able to train this new 'pet', perhaps I should give my new 'pet grief' a name so I can laugh at it like Steve laughed at his Cancer.  Either way I know I have a mountain to climb, I'll get there but perhaps I need to be a little easier on myself.

Tomorrow will be a good day, if I tell myself that now then hopefully it will be.

Until then goodnight,
Mark x