I let my boyfriend in. Rather, he sort of kicked my door down and moved in. One day we were dating and the next, he moved in. That was March of 2012.
We were having our usual new couple issues along with my awkward letting someone love me issues. I wasn't sure if he was "The One" -- I didn't feel crazy love for him. Which led me to believe this time, it was different. He made me feel safe. That was a new feeling.
Do things happen for a reason? Do people come in to your life for a reason? I think about this often. I've never had kids, I haven't been in a long term, live with me relationship for many many years. Now here I am, here we are facing this illness. If he weren't living with me, who would be taking care of him? Is this my role now? Is this why he's here?
I could ask these questions forever. It is what it is. He's here.
I feel guilt. Scared. Shut down.
Guilt because we've together less than two years and I think this sucks. This happens to couples who've been together for a life time. We never worked out those usual new couple issues and they're lurking beneath the surface. I'm still pissed off about a few things we never got to resolve and now, he's dying. Guilt because I wonder why this is happening to me. I finally, finally let someone in after so many years of being alone, of being unloved, of not allowing myself to be hurt and this is what happens. Guilt because I'm not dying so I shouldn't feel so selfish.
Scared because well, you know. ALS.
Shut down because I can't even think of what's next. I can't allow myself yet to see the future.
I want to be strong, I will eventually be strong. For now, I'm closing my eyes. I'm up north, at my parent's place. Another safe place... It's a hot summer day. I'm on a raft in the water. The sun is warm on my skin, I hear the waves lapping, the wind in the trees, voices far away. Floating on the surface. Time stands still.