I am officially out of Winterspice Drive. "I'm done done-dee, and gone gone-dee" -Chad Sexton.
I feel like I should be rejoicing at the feat of packing a 5 bedroom home in 7 days. But I don't know how to feel. Something is nagging inside of me. I can't put my finger on it. These past 7 days have been extremely taxing, emotionally speaking. Going through TJ's things and constantly stumbling upon other hidden items of his has been so hard. I found one last notebook today and flipped it open. I read something aloud to my mother because she's not as used to his handwriting as I am. It was his feelings about himself and his weight. He was pretty hard on himself in the entry. I know we all have those moments. And typically when we write it's at the worst of times. These writings don't reflect how we feel on a daily basis. After I read it, I paused for a long while and sighed. I started putting his clothes that I didn't want into a bag for Goodwill. My entire body felt heavy. My veins seemed filled with liquid cement. Slowly starting at my legs and moving upwards to my head. I wanted to lie on the floor. Just to curl up next to his clothes. I couldn't figure out why. And then I realized that, even though I knew he had those feelings a long time ago, what I read made me sad. TJ was the most amazing person I will ever know. He was smart, funny, handsome; a go getter. He was constantly learning. I can't tell you how many instructional books I packed up and hauled here to my parents house... He blew so many others out of the water with his lust for life. Including me. I see immense value in life itself, but have never really known what to do with mine. It was so much easier to put all of my focus on TJ. To make him happy. To support him in his passions. It made me unbelieveably sad to read his writings. To see the pain and struggle he experienced within himself. I spent every day we had together showing him love. Reminding him of the man that I saw, the man that he truly was; my love. My inspiration. My partner.
I can't help but wonder about his feelings. Where ever he is, does he look at his life as a whole? Would he be satisfied? I know he was taken all too soon, but because this was it, would he be proud? Would he feel all of the love around him? I pray he does. He meant everything to me. My memories are all that I have. It's just not enough. I want to hold him. I want to stroke his eyebrows. I want to hear his voice in my ears. I know he wasn't done. And neither am I. I can't seem to figure this alone thing out. I know it's still early, but damn. These things take time, or so I'm told. I just can't see the end to the suffering. That is exactly what it is. Suffering. Longing. Loss. I'm all alone now. I have to start all over. My future was with TJ, and that future died with him. It's up to me to paint a new picture. I'm not sure what will be in it, but I hope with every part of me that I can find happiness again. I can't remember what it feels like.