Three Months

September 6

Today is the three-month mark since Brandon died. To be exact 92 days ago at 8:19 am this morning. 

I had a pretty rough weekend, long weekend with it being Labor Day. I took Friday off too, so today is my Monday. Monday always seems like a rough day. Definitely is, today. 

Because of the long weekend, I had a lot of time to sit and think as it were in between working on stuff around the house. Sometimes, that's a very dangerous place for me to be. 

My mind tends to wander and a few times, it took a really wrong turn. I also made the mistake of watching a show last night where I had heard a prelude of what was to happen. To say it struck me really hard right in the gut is a severe understatement. 

I kept waiting; I knew about how the event in the show would happen and like a train wreck, I could not look away. I started to turn it off, but I could not make myself do it. 

I wonder if three months ago, if my face looked like the actress's face when she lost her love. 

When I looked back at stuff over the weekend, I realized what it all felt like; an extremely fast ride in which you are essentially strapped into a seat and have no control over how fast you go or which way you'll turn. You have limited decision making other than - keep going forward or else. 

Eventually, the ride speeds up even more and before you can even emit a scream, suddenly a wall looms before you. That wall is it. Boom - the end. 

A few seconds later or a few hours later, whenever it happens...you stumble to your feet in a daze. Serious mind fog, what just happened? Am I hurt? Is my partner hurt? Where are they? They were just here. You may be a little or a lot out of breath or you may even be gasping for air. 

After all that, after you regain your breath, your footing? You are left in a pile of rubble, left to wonder what the hell just happened and where you are to go, now. 

That is where I am right now. 

I had that feeling walking into the kitchen last night for something. Just a "what the hell is any of this," moment. Is this real? Am I real? It literally stopped me in my tracks for a half second. 

It was a very fleeting feeling and I felt foolish for a moment afterwards, but I can still remember how it felt. It felt like that anecdotal wall. Just Boom. Fast uncontrollable ride, sudden stop, and now this new crazy reality. 

Today is one of those days I just feel like I need a "it'll be okay" talk from Brandon. 

I always try to put on a happy face, but honestly? part of me got really messed up when I hit the wall beside Brandon while squeezing his hand.

I made it, but he did not. His story ended three months ago. And I hate I cannot speak to HIM again about anything. 

I remember when I was a little girl, nine years old, how "wrecked" I was physically after a car hit me one morning on the way to the bus stop. I woke up two days after the accident in a pediatric ICU; my face was covered in stitches, both of my eyes were just about bruised shut, both blood shot, severely broken nose, upper lip split open, swollen, hurting. I do not remember the accident itself at all.

After a while though, while I was healing, I knew I would not look like that or feel like that forever. But I remember thinking, I  will always carry those scars and feelings and remember that first glance at myself in the mirror when the wounds were still fresh.

If anyone happened to look closely or knew about them, they would see those scars too, otherwise, they would have no idea they existed at all. They are faded, but not gone. 

I imagine that some day, after time has passed, more than three months for sure, that the feelings of doubt, of pain, of uncertainty that I am carrying around in this "fog" I am in right now will fade, too.

The hope is there to regain my confidence, my stride, my strength. However, right now, I feel like the scared little girl who woke up in a hospital bed 41 years ago all alone hurting all over and not knowing how in the hell I wound up there.