Journey In Grief: Ch 3- Bargaining

Authors note: Welcome to Day 12 of 12 Days of Christmas!

This third article is part of a series of works cataloging my journey through grief--The anger, the loss, the sadness, the denial, bargaining and eventually, the acceptance and hope that comes with it. This one is about bargaining—finally processing the anger enough that you can start to get in touch with the hurt underneath it. And then, the new defense mechanism of bargaining comes in (with some denial, too). If you’ve ever had a hard time letting go, you’ll relate with this one. Drop a comment and let me know what you think, and what parts you most identify with!

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I cried about you yesterday. It was the first time in a long time. I’ve needed to get it out, but I’ve been too angry. Too hurt. 

I’ve been holding on to it for a while. I’ve wanted to let it out but couldn’t get myself to.

It still hurts. I feel like I was left behind. Or used. 

But I know I can’t entirely blame you and I have to ask myself why I put myself in that position. And that’s heavy. There’s some shame in that.

But you know, it feels good to be used, sometimes. It feels good to be needed. To be useful. To have something to offer. I guess it’s easier to measure worth that way sometimes. It makes it easier to pinpoint something tangible. 

And it’s in my control, I guess. Maybe there’s a sense of safety or stability in it. That you know if you keep offering, they’ll keep coming back. 

I just, I've been there before. I lived there before. And it hurts to realize I did it to myself, again. 

Wishing we could be friends

I just wish we could still be friends. Because I’m such a fan of you and your sensitive heart. And how freaking weird you are. And I’m glad I got to have you with me, even just for that short time. 

I’m happy for you. I think. And I’m happy without you. I think. I don’t know. I’m just…I guess I just miss you.

And I’m wondering if you’re watching the Olympics, and what sports. I’m addicted. I want to watch every match of every sport. And did you watch the Paralympics? Did you know there’s Blind Soccer?! It’s incredible. They so inspired me. 

Mouse trap

And I wanted to tell you I’ve got a mouse again. Luca seems to not realize it’s her job to not be nice to them. So I’m dealing with it. Got rid of those poison traps you didn’t like. I got rid of them a long time ago, actually. I just didn’t get to tell you. I love how much you care. And thank you for being patient enough to explain how they trickle down and poison the whole ecosystem and stuff. 

But man, I got one of the snapper traps and somehow this little bugger got the peanut butter without setting it off! Little bastard. 

I don’t want him dead, I just don’t want him here. And there seems to be no other option. So I’ll make it as humane as possible, and I’m glad we could at least agree on that. 

Look back at our pictures

I look back at our pictures sometimes. The other day I thought it’d help me get a cry out. It didn’t. It just made me sad.

There were some beautiful moments there. Maybe I just miss a fantasy. It wasn’t all good, after all. You’d be angry with me and I’d be frustrated by you. But I loved how you could tell me when I upset you. You weren’t so stuck on making me happy or comfortable that you couldn’t voice your disappointment. Your hurt. Even if I caused it. Thank you for trusting me with that. 

And maybe I just liked how I was able to respond in those moments. How I could listen, and take it in and not get defensive, but really try to hear you out.

I mean, we always knew we’d never really work out. But it doesn’t mean I still miss you. And you left such a mark on me. And I hope I did too. 

But when I think of the way you held my hand, how it’d make me want to pull away. This pained, jealous rage rising up in me.

But I’m glad you’re happy. I don’t want to be the one holding your hand.  I just…I don’t know. I just wanted to tell you about the mouse. 

High schoolers

Sometimes I wonder if we were always meant to reconnect the way we did. After all those years in between. Having someone who knew that 15-years-younger side of me felt so, healing. To see me in a way I couldn’t see myself back then. There’s a fixed number of people we’ll ever know who knew us back then. And it feels like more of a loss to lose someone that had that. Because I also lost those memories of me at such a different chapter. 

When I step back, I think how freaking weird it is that we even ended up together at all. From depressed high school kids who barely talked, to adult lovers, still kind of depressed, but together. And also, how freaking weird you still are.

Maybe in 15 more years

It’s hard to believe that’s really the end for us. It doesn’t feel like the way a story goes. Like, no movie ever goes that way. Does it? 

So I tell myself that maybe in another 15 years, when we’re passed all this and we forget about all the details and just the important stuff remains. Maybe we’ll  pick back up like it’s nothing one night and talk for three hours about god knows what and need to take bathroom breaks in between.

Maybe our astrological paths will cross again and it’ll be intense and beautiful and there will be so much love and tears and sadness and healing of all this pain we’ve been holding onto. 

And maybe we could just be friends. 

Maybe we’ll be moms by then. And maybe it’ll stir up our own mother wounds and maybe that’ll pull us back together. Maybe our kids will be friends one day and then we’ll be forced to be friends again! Or maybe not.

Maybe in another few decades, our paths will cross again. And it’ll just be the friendship love that remains. And maybe we’ll never mention this chapter, and maybe we’ll even forget all about it. We’ll laugh it off and pretend it was nothing. I mean, was it nothing? It was something to me. But maybe it won’t always feel that way. I guess I won’t know for another 15 years.