How do you gauge the depth of a loss? What do we use to measure it? Time? Memories? Stuff?
I don’t know. I only know that all of it contributes to the overwhelming feeling of being lost. Loss and feeling lost. Most definitely not the same and certainly not mutually exclusive, but related none the less.
As December gets ready to roll in, I find myself steeped in memories and surrounded by things that signified a deeper love than I realized I thought I’d felt. Such a shame that someone’s death causes such intense clarity in hindsight.
When DJ was alive, I loved her, yes, but there were times that she also drove me up the wall. I know this is something that happens in all relationships and I know there were many things I did that drove her up the wall, too. But when that person is there, with you, making you crazy, you tend to squash those feelings of love down, down, down and focus only on what’s in front of you. The fact that someone is nagging at you to vacuum the floor. The fact that it’s taken you an entire hour and a half to watch a 30 minute television show because you paused it to hear your husband or wife prattle on about something you have absolutely no interest in hearing. The fact that you bought things outside the allotted monthly budget without letting your significant other know…all these things demand your time and attention and almost force you to change your focus in a relationship.
Before DJ, I had had a few long term relationships. None of them viable, and in hindsight, none of them substantial, which is probably why none of them lasted. DJ was my first real relationship. She was the one who made my heart sing. She was also the one who made my heart cry. Neither of us were perfect but both of us knew, deep down inside, that there would never be another person who would stand in for the other. Of course, I may be making an assumption here based on the idea that we lived together and loved each other. Perhaps, I should say that on my end, I knew there would never be anyone else that would stand in for what I had with DJ. I think she felt the same way about me.
Last night, I was mulling over a memory I had of her, which is what led me to write this post. It’s a simple, funny, mundane memory of the day to day rituals and actions we express and the reactions we have with each other that are representative of us…our relationship in a nutshell, as it were.
The memory is this: DJ in her “house” clothes, a stretchy skirt with large flowers…either green or pink, and a spaghetti-strapped top. She was dancing and swinging her hips with her eyes closed, pretending I wasn’t looking as I pretended not to look, each of us peeking out of the corners of our eyes until we fully acknowledged each other. Her face in mock surprise at being caught dancing to non-existent music, and mine in an incredulous, “what the hell kind of dance is that?” look.
That is it. The dance we all dance when we’re in a relationship with someone we love. We pretend not to see. We wonder what the hell the other person is thinking. We pretend the other person isn’t looking. We act as though nothing is happening. Yet, through it all, we are reaching deep down inside of ourselves, pulling out the love that seemed so simple and easy at the onset, the love that often got lost in the minutiae of our daily lives, and seeing it for what it really is…life with someone you love, who you know loves you in return, even though neither of you is perfect. We need to remember to pull that love out to let it see the light of day and we shouldn’t need for someone to leave us to do that.
I enjoy reading and have blogged in the past about travel and books. My latest blog is a vanity blog. I write about whatever comes to mind, specifically, things I think I need in life. Hope you enjoy!