Tomorrow sucks. I never hated it before but, I hate it now. I remember every Valentine’s Day With Court. The first Valentine‘s I bought tickets for us to see Billy Joel at Madison Square Garden and she got me tickets to see Fun Home. It was an amazing weekend in the city. Our second Valentine’s Day we went to Sarasota Springs, NY. It was amazing. Our 3rd we went for a DELICIOUS dinner at Shell n Bones in New Haven, after that, we’d do a date night there when we’d really want to splurge. Last Valentine’s Day- our last together we were remodeling our kitchen. Our house was chaos. I made court a “nips” boquette and she made me an antipasto arrangement. That was my favorite Valentine’s Day. So much care, thought and time went into our gifts. It wasn’t a lot but, it was love. There were wrapped packages that came with Valentine’s Day but, the DIY gifts were always my favorite. I loved it. I really did. I still remember coming home and seeing the arrangement she made me. I remember thinking how well we knew each other. How perfect we were together. We were perfect for a nips boquette and antipasto arrangement. I wish I didn't know her that well. I wish I never bought alcohol as a gift. But, the memory and the joy it brought me will need to outweigh that. Tomorrow is my first Valentines day without her. I’m so glad I bought those outrageously expensive Billy Joel tickets. (I thought the total was $600 no, no, they were $600 each. Haha!) But, her face. Her excitement. The tears of joy coming out of her eyes before he came on stage, that I will never forget. I’m so grateful for the trip home from Sarasota in the blizzard and the stop we made to meet up with Daniel and Lauren in the middle of it. I’m grateful for the conversation we had at dinner at shell and bones. I’m grateful for the beauty among the chaos that was our last Valentine’s Day. I usually find something to do for “us” on holidays and days that are important. Tomorrow, I’m not doing anything for us. Not anything “good” anyway. I’ll be at my house, our house with our Realestate agent taking pictures of our home so it can be listed. That‘s never been in my future planning of Valentine’s Day celebrations. I bought her a card. I have bought her a card for each holiday she has been gone. I found a “wife to wife” card. I cried in Target picking it out. She loved finding LGBT cards for me. She’d always be sure I gave her brownie points for that. The messages inside all these cards now don‘t reflect us. They talk about the life they share, the future, the love, the things they’re grateful for. I don’t have that. Apparently there are no cards to your deceased partner. Maybe hallmark should get on that.
I was feeling ok a few days ago. I was getting myself out of a slump but I feel like I’m going back into it. (I realized this earlier but more so when my dog jumped into my lap while writing this post. Nuzzling into me all curled up in my lap. He knows. He misses his other mamz too, have I mentioned how much I love my pupper?) I was feeling ok. I did some “inner child” work this week. then I looked at the date and I thought about that stupid antipasto arrangement. I thought about Billy Joel, Shell and Bones and Sarasota. That stupid antipasto arrangement. She made that for me in the office because the kitchen was in shambles. The office that she took her life in. I hate that office. The thoughts then spiral From antipasto to tomorrow. I hate that there will be photos of that space disguised as a work out room on the listing for our house. I hate that I signed the papers for the sale agreements yesterday. I hate that my probate lawyer said that property will only be in my name- there should be no problems at signing! I hate that people seem to think it will sell quick. I hate this. February 2018 we looked at that house. We were in limbo with it until 3 days before our wedding when we finally closed. Sept 28,2018 we had our home. We had the keys. It was ours. February 2020 I’m selling our home. Alone. I’m doing it alone. I’m not doing it to move on to bigger and better things. I’m doing it because of pain, loss, anger and death. I miss my home. The smell. The freedom. The yard. The love. I miss my life in that home, i miss building it with the woman I love. I miss my wife. I miss saying how much we loved our life and our home. That must have been such a lie for her to say. I wonder if those words hurt. I wonder if it hurt her to say I love you. What was the truth? What was a lie? I don’t know and I’ll never know. So, Happy Valentine‘s Day to me. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe this is reality. I hate it. I hate my anger toward her because it makes me so sad to think about the pain she was in. I hate that she left me here. I hate who I am. I hate what my life has become. I hate so many things about my past. Can this just be some horrible joke and can she come home now? Please. what ever it takes, just give her back to me. Can you send valentines from heaven? Are you happy? Are you proud of me? Am I getting through this the way that you promised me I would? I love you. More. Most. More than most and even more than that. I want this to end. I’m over it. You moved on. I get to move forward. That sucks...
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