Progress can be fleeting, and in my case it can be elusive to the point of total frustration.

You see…two days ago marked the 16th anniversary of my losing Annie. I put off writing about this date, in order to see what my feelings may be, and if they have changed over the intervening years. For the most part, nothing has changed.

One thing that I have managed to overcome is my extreme anger over what happened. Reality has shown me that my anger served no purpose and it was only a partner to my grief. While my anger has been tempered, my grief continues to be with me every day. I just don’t see a way forward from it.

My mind sees Annie wherever I go. Whatever I may be doing, something is bound to pop up or appear before me to trigger my memories of her. What I wouldn’t give to hear her voice, look into her eyes and feel her laying next to me. Were there a deal with the devil to get her back, I would take it, without question.

The pandemic managed to bring me closer to her than all of the previous years. As I isolated from crowds, friends and experiences, my thoughts of Annie are what kept me afloat. And, now that the pandemic is waning, what do I have left?

I am practically a recluse, as I continue to avoid people. Truth is, most people have nothing to say that interests me anymore. This country has less importance to me than ever now that the crazies and haters wield so much influence. If I thought it wasn’t safe for Annie to be here 16 years ago, it is even worse today.

I have met a several people that I enjoy spending a few hours at a time with here and there, and a few of them have also been transgender. I will see them occasionally, but make no effort for anything other than friendship. Leaving my memories of Annie behind to make room for someone new is inconceivable to me. At my age, starting over is not an option, at least in my mind. All I ever wanted was to grow old together with Annie, but here I am, just old and without her. Another reality is no one wants an old guy. Well, maybe to meet for coffee or drinks or maybe something else, if I am paying.

So while my anger after 16 years has finally passed, my grief continues unabated. I guess some people would call that progress.