I decided early on today that I wasn't going to post anything. I was just down ... too sad ... and I didn't see the point in coming and writing another post saying the same thing I said yesterday ... and the week before that ... and the week before that.
I was watching True Blood tonight ... which was a bad idea because (spoilers) it's basically a sixty minute funeral scene ... which was the last thing on Earth that I needed to watch. But since I'm apparently the most masochistic person in central Illinois ... I grabbed a box of Kleenex and watched the whole damned thing.
For the entire sixty minutes I sat here wallowing ... thinking over everything. Thanks to True Blood, I started off thinking about her funeral. How hard it was to get up and talk in front of everyone ... but I'm glad I did. Then I thought about the year I had with her before she died. All the things we did ... all the trivia nights ... all the road trips ... like going to St. Louis and the science museum ... or going to see the Christmas lights.
I thought about how she didn't bat an eye that first night we met for dinner after all that time apart. She didn't yell or make me feel guilty. She gave me a hug ... well, the best hug she could ... and asked in a completely open, curious voice, "So ... wanna tell me why you're sleeping on your Mom's couch?" It's like we just picked up where we left off ... we continued the same conversation we'd been having all our lives.
I got mad thinking of all those years I didn't have with her. I know ... I know. It's just rehashing that same garbage ... it's not healthy. But thinking of it all, I remembered a conversation we had on the phone one Friday night ... sometime in the Spring ... March or April? Maybe even back in February?
That night, she was asking more of her invasive questions ... about things that happened with my marriage ... what went wrong ... what went right ... why I stayed for so long. She must've asked a hundred questions. At the end of the long, long conversation, I told her I was sorry for everything.
I told her I'd never pick someone over her again. Even though I try not to cry in front of anyone, I got a little weepy with her that night ... and I said, "If Stoney made me pick between you and him, I promise I'd pick you this time." She said, "Silly ... that's why I'm glad you're with him. He's not the kind of guy who would make you choose."
So, thanks for the funeral episode, True Blood. I have a raging headache, a stopped-up nose, and, I suspect, a complete inability to sleep. Maybe I'll just stay up all night again ...
When I'm gone
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone
You're gonna miss me by my hair
You're gonna miss me everywhere
Oh, you're gonna miss me when I'm gone