Thank you for listening

I tell you this, and I tell you plain:
What you have done, you will do again;
You will bite your tongue, careful or not,
Upon the already-bitten spot.
~Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic's Notebook, 1960

OK, so my first post yesterday was a little heavy. I know this, because people asked me if I was OK not long afterward. I am OK I guess (as much as I can be); but I am grieving, and occasionally I need to vent.

But I guess you knew that. From the first time you read my blog you knew I was grieving for my Sam. And if you kept reading, you must have known that once in a while I'd say something sad. I've said it before, but I do appreciate the way that some of you have stayed on that roller coaster, from the tame, flat parts, right through to the terrifying loop-de-loops.

That is what it's like for me too. For a while, things are going along OK: I start to see some normality creep back in, start to laugh, smile, and have fun again; and then bang! It hits me. I'm never going to see him again. It can be as simple as a smell, a sight, a memory; something someone says, but it can be anything that gives me that strong feeling of loss.

For the sake of my sanity (and that of my family and friends), I've got to get it out. This blog is my venting spot. It's where I can get it out.
It's not that I don't have people that I can talk to. I do. There are people in my life that are there for me: when I need to talk they are there to listen; just listen. Not offer advice, or try and make it about them, but just listen. I'm lucky that way I guess, because there are a lot of people who don't have that.

But sometimes there's no one. Or they're not there at the time I need to get it out. Or they don't want to hear it. And that's OK too, I guess.

One of them is Anthony. He's my partner. He's been in my life more than 16 years, and my partner for 15 and a half. But he's never been much of a talker. Oh, he talks about stuff - like politics, and renovations, and our kids, but he's not much of a talker about 'feelings'.
It's never really been a problem. I talk for both of us. It's OK by him and it's OK by me. Always has been. We've had our problems, but he's proved to me over and over again how much he loves me; in much more tangible, non-verbal ways.

It has been hard with the whole Sam thing though. Because I have wanted to talk to him. And sometimes he just doesn't want to. I guess I kind of understand. He feels this whole thing so differently to me. He cries more than me (like I've said before), and is much more likely to actually express his grief (which I know is the complete opposite of what I've just said about him), and there have been times when I've been hesitant to mention something about Sam because I don't want to upset him.
But I do sometimes wish we could have long, meaningful, heartfelt conversations. Sometimes we do, but probably not as much as I'd like.

So that's why I have you, dear reader. It's really the main reason I started this blog, and why I keep it going. I can say everything I want to say, and not worry about how people are going to react (apart from the odd 'are you OK?'); or that they're going to start talking about how they feel; or that their eyes are going to glaze over halfway through; or that they're thinking of all the things they could be doing, instead of listening to me say stuff I've said already.

My lovely readers, who are still with me after all this time, can choose when they read it. They can choose to not read it if they want to. I'll never know. But I'll have got it out, and that's what's really important.

Thanks to those of you who do stick it out with me. In a way you are the ones who do listen. I don't think there's too much difference between someone sitting there listening to me talk, and someone sitting there reading what I write. It's not like I need advice. In fact, there's not much advice anyone can give. There's not even much that anyone can say. But there's lots that I can say. That's the point.

So thanks again readers. I love having you around.

And a final thought:

No one is listening until you fart. ~Author Unknown

:)