Tag: grief

Entry #86 Unsure…

The end of another year is upon us, and the 16th anniversary of Annie’s death is only three months away.

I miss her every day, and my grief shows no sign of waning. Many days it is overwhelming and I stumble through the days unfocused and lacking the motivation to go on. No one understands, and even though I sometimes try and confide in another human, I can just tell that they not only don’t get it, they don’t get me at all.

When you fall for someone like I fell for Annie, there is no recovery once that is lost. Losing that loving person, whose touch was electrifying, and the bond we shared, that cannot be recreated with another is soul crushing. Not that I haven’t tried to meet someone who might share some of the same experiences or feelings. It has been to no avail.

The more I try and ascertain what has happened over the intervening years, the more I have come to the realization that I am drawn to a specific type of person. When I meet someone new, I tread very softly and refuse to reveal much about myself until I can feel some level of comfort with that person. Does their life experience in any way relate to my time with Annie? Could they ever understand where I am coming from? Would they even care?

The majority of people I meet disappoint on so many levels. Why are so many people consumed with material things, and not trying to establish a dialogue or friendship with someone who can be empathetic and open to life experiences that may be different from those of the past?

In the end, the few people I have met that have made an emotional and mental connection with me have turned out to be just like Annie. Those few individuals have been both transgender and persons of color. I cannot explain why. I can only recognize the connection and comfort I feel in their presence, often because they are willing to share their experiences with me as I share mine.

The problem is, that for me, it is too late to meet someone new and forge one of those amazing relationships. I am just too old, and those few people I have met and connected with are far younger than I.

So as yet another year draws to a close, I live with my memories of Annie. Meeting another person like Annie, and being able to forge another friendship, and even a possible relationship remains just wishful thinking. These are lost years with more lost years to come. If I was a younger guy, there might be some hope, but alas, I am not. I am hopeful, and yet realistic in the fact that it won’t happen. I will never feel the love and touch of another person like Annie. I might yet be proven wrong, but hold no expectations. I believe I am destined to walk alone with my memories of Annie, a transgender woman of color who changed my life forever.

I believe I have finally reached the point of giving up…

Entry 84: Silence

Silence is so under valued.

The older I get, the more I realize that I get little enjoyment of conversations with most folks. Few have anything meaningful to contribute, and I am so tired of listening to or taking part in inane conversations, upon topics that have no value.

Silence holds much promise in a world overrun with noise, and the fact that most people only wish to hear themselves making profound (to them) statements about absolutely nothing.

Annie taught me so much about appreciating the silence. We could and did spend many hours together without speaking a word. All we had to do was look into each other’s eyes and it was as if we could read each other’s mind.

Our silence with each other was spiritual and sexual all at the same time. If you look into another person’s eyes long enough and in silence, you can actually see their wants and desires expressed back to you. I know this to be true, as Annie and I lived for these moments together, where we could just embrace each other even without touching.

The first time we locked eyes, we knew. We knew how much we desired one another without speaking a word. That first look, brought us a year of unbelievable love and a true sense of having found someone that could in an instant see into our deepest thoughts.

Annie was the gift I could never have anticipated. Every moment we spent together was a gift. The fact that she is gone has haunted me for fifteen years. The silence that we enjoyed so often, is often impossible for me to find. The few times I do find it, is when I travel to one of our favorite places like the beach or the forest. But even then, the silence is fleeting, as my mind is unable to embrace it without her.

The silence is what I strive to find, over and over again. Finding that silence is the only thing that will provide me with the peace I yearn for. It is all I can hope for, because the truth is, I will never find another Annie, and most other people bore me to tears.

Entry #83: 82

82 is the number of entries I have made to this journal prior to this one. I never anticipated that this endeavor would have gone on for this long. Despite all of the things I have written to this point, I feel that there is so much more I care to write about. If only I could motivate myself to reveal more of my memories without falling back into the darkness that inevitably results, It is hard to believe that after all of these years, my grief continues to be worn on the surface of my being. It is inescapable.

If you have not read all of the entries, and are in any way confused over my incessant babbling on, then I would suggest you go back and start at the very beginning with entry number one and as you move forward, a more complete picture of who Annie was and how our lives intersected will emerge.

When I think back to the loss of Annie, that single event shattered my life forever. I left my career, eventually restricted my travel to places other than those we shared together, and when faced with the fact that I continue to age, and decided to no longer work for the benefit of companies, I now spend my time dabbling in anything that cannot be said to be a serious endeavor.

It is said somewhere, that people look at the world with a glass half full or half empty perspective, and that choice determines your level of happiness. Well…I have a glass. My glass has both. One half is half full and I use that to relive and hold dear all of the memories and joy I can bring forth about the times Annie and I had together. The other half is full of the darkness and bitterness of loss without closure. Trying to find a balance between half full and half empty is no small feat, and I fail more times than not in trying to keep myself afloat.

So, this is entry number 83.

My glass tells me there is more to come.

Entry #81: Five Days

Five days from now will mark yet another anniversary of Annie’s passing. Five days which signify fourteen years. Fourteen years of grief and anger that never subsides, that will not allow me to move on.

Last year on this anniversary, I spent a few hours with a friend, as she did not wish me to spend the day alone. It was a very kind gesture on her part, and I am thankful she granted me that time with her. But in the end, it was not enough. While we spent a few hours together, the subject of Annie never came up. I waited, and waited, and waited for her to ask me something about Annie. Anything. No questions came.I suppose she was just not interested enough to actually try and delve into the meaning of this day for me.

I never make a concrete plan for this day. This year will be different though. I am just a few hours drive away from one of those places that Annie and I found the most peaceful. I might just make the drive and attempt to recapture the feelings we had for each other in this quiet space.

The first time I took Annie to this place, she was quite uncomfortable with the whole idea. She was a city girl and did not appreciate the beauty of the silence of the forest. I brought blankets and pillows and we must have looked silly walking into the forest carrying all of this. Once I found the spot I wanted, we wrapped ourselves in the blankets, me leaning back against a tree, and Annie reclining between my legs, so I could wrap my arms around her while we just sat and listened. It did not take long for our silence and lack of movement to allow the animals nearby to come out as we seemed to not be a threat.

We sat like that for hours, listening and watching nature do it’s thing right in front of us. Hours whispering our love for each other and making check lists of what we had to accomplish before we could move to Montreal, get married and begin our new life together. A business associate had found a flat for sale in the city centre and we made plans to sell things off here and make that purchase.

I will never see that flat in person. I will never again be able to lay in the forest with Annie in my arms, feeling the life and warmth of her body next to mine again.

This may be the last anniversary I spend here wondering what to do unless something major changes.

I think I am almost ready to make the trip to Thailand I have been avoiding for so many years. I will bring a blanket and pillow and find her final resting place. Then I can spread the blanket and lay down upon her grave and once again feel close to her. I have never stopped loving her, and when that moment comes, I hope she will recognize that I am finally there with her once again.

Entry #78: Loving an “Other”

This country I live in was founded on racism, and although over 200 year have passed, the fear and hatred of “others” continues. I do not have a solution and little hope that this will change.

All I have to offer are my own experiences.

Annie was a love that I never searched for. Until she stormed into my life, I was blissfully unaware of the daily discrimination taking place in this country. I was too busy carrying on with my own life.

You see…Annie was an “other”. A Person of Color. Asian. Transgender. A perfect trifecta for the hate that lives in this country. Hate that is fueled by religion and white privilege.

Our love for each other burned white hot. I cannot even begin to express how many hours, days, months, I spent doing my best to ensure that whenever Annie was with me, she would be safe from the hate and violence daily inflicted upon POC.

The stories she would tell me of discrimination and violence endured in her community were devastating to hear. While I had no first hand experience in my growing up, I sure got a face full of hate once we were together in public. I was not prepared with experiences to fall back on. This was all new to me and it was the scariest part of my life. Scary, because no matter what I did, or how I acted, I was powerless to protect her 24 hours a day.

Our year together was the most glorious time of my life. Annie was a life force unto herself and every day that passes, I thank the universe for bringing her into my life. Her life was cut short by the simple fact that her body failed the day she achieved her greatest victory over her dysphoria. If that isn’t the most cruel twist of fate, I don’t know what would be.

It is now fourteen years since Annie passed on. The hate of “others” continues to grow in this country, fueled by religious fanatics and just plain ignorant people. 

I cannot envision ever meeting someone like Annie again. I think you only get one chance at that. I am so fortunate to have had her love for the year we had together. I will cherish all of those memories for whatever time I have left.

Entry #77: Fraud

I am such a fraud.

Recently, I had the opportunity to go out for a drink with a female friend. She and her husband are pretty good friends to me.

She went on and on about what a chill and down to earth guy I am, and that they both appreciate my friendship.

Little does she know that I die inside a little more every time I hear something like that. They have no idea who I am…none. And…I cannot or will not tell them.

Another anniversary of Annie’s death is fast approaching and if have to be honest about it, I don’t know how much longer I can bear it.

They never knew about Annie. Almost no one in my life has that knowledge, and holding that knowledge deep inside is going to be the end of me. I wish I had the opportunity to tell her story somewhere other than in these pages, but I trust no one to be able to understand.

You see…whenever any of my feelings for Annie came out in the open, she and I were met by absolute hatred for who she was and by extension myself for loving her. Maybe it was just the times we lived in back then and maybe things are better today, yet I refuse to take another chance that the relationship we had can be met with understanding and acceptance.

No one in the outside world who knew Annie’s story accepted her. I was the only one. I will never understand the cruelty and hatred that humans have for one another, and I have given up trying to make any sense of it all.

Forty two more days till I relive her death yet again.

No one knows, no one cares, no one can see me as the fraud that is right in front of them. I am not the person I present to you. You cannot see into my heart and the darkness that enslaves me.

Entry #75: Happy New Year

Happy New Year everyone! 2022 will be a much better year in my opinion. I received validation recently concerning my feelings and grief and while I chose not to take advantage of a major recommendation, I am hopeful for the year.

After 13 years and nine months, I finally succumbed to meeting with a therapist. There was good and bad as a takeaway.

The good was validation for me that in losing my friendship with “A”, it reflected a lack of context to some of my comments. Did I mean what I said to be offensive? No. Did she try and further the conversation in asking for an explanation? No. However, I can now see how she might have taken something I wrote and saw it in a different light than what was meant. For that I am sorry, as in my usual way, when I feel judged, I simply cut things off and disappear. I could have and should have made the effort to resolve the misinterpretation of my message. The takeaway is that I learned something from this and will not make that particular mistake again. I wish we could reconnect, but I doubt she is interested, and the result is my loss of a friendship.

Now for the bad.

Dealing with my grief and depression over the 13 years and nine months (but who is counting?) has been an epic struggle. The therapist had some constructive exercises I could go through when I feel particularly anxiety burdened, but her main recommendation is a no-go for me.

She wanted to prescribe some meds that would smooth out the edges and provide some relief. As the daily process of being medicated evolve, I would feel less and less anxiety and my thoughts of Annie would become less prominent in my mindfulness. When I asked her if I would still remember everything from the past and be able to recall anything I wanted from our relationship, she said that over time those memories and feeling will wane and a more stable mental process will remain.

Nope! Not going to happen! I will never knowingly do anything to eliminate my memories and recollection of every moment Annie and I had together. Never!. Without her in my thoughts, life has no meaning for me.

So, I will take what I can from her remarks and skip the drugs. It was a worthwhile exercise, and the good parts I will take along the road of life with me.

There are 69 days left before I celebrate Annie’s passing for the 14th time. This year I have no one to spend that day with, but that is ok.

I am hopeful that I can find another friend to write with and have conversations with. It will be difficult, but I will give it the old college try.

So…here is to a new year. I will work hard to write more often and be more creative. The dark spaces are still my refuge, but I think I am in a better place to deal with it all, while embracing the darkness that gives me so much happiness. No drugs required.

Entry #73: Crushed

It has been a while since I last wrote. Truth is…my mind has been going in so many directions, it has been quite hard to even attempt to focus.

When I lost  my connection to a friend recently, a huge hole opened up in my life. I worked hard to be a good friend, empathetic, and a good listener. After the connection was lost, I realized it wasn’t enough. There just wasn’t enough interest for her to want to explore my thoughts. I am a good listener, but sometimes you just wish the other person would want to listen to what you had to say for a change. It hurt a lot to lose that friendship.

Having the benefit of hindsight now, I realize a large part of the equation, is the fact that my baggage will not allow anyone else to get close.

When Annie died, my heart was broken forever, but that was not the worst of it. In the real life that went forward, my soul was crushed. I think I can finally come to grip with what I knew to be true from that very day.

The pain of losing her crushed my soul to the point that there is no longer any room for anyone else. Annie brought me a certain joy that no one else will ever be able to give me. I have spent over thirteen years attempting at various times to find that sort of connection and it has been a fruitless endeavor.

Annie was a once in a lifetime love that cannot be replaced. I never thought about growing old without her and yet, here I am. I tried to join her. Twice actually. On two separate occasions, I purchased one way tickets to Thailand. In each instance, I failed to follow through and cancelled those flights because I am too much of a coward to take my own life. The pain of living without her is a constant in my life and no more than a few hours can ever pass without me thinking of her.

So here I am…just another aging guy who manages to live a life in the darkness of pain and memories of of what I had and what might have been, no matter how bright the sun shines.

I have some friends and acquaintances who I see every once in a while, but they are kept at arms length. No one knows what is in my mind, except you who may read my entries here, and I intend to keep it that way for my own benefit. I live with my heartbreak and crushed soul and while I can designate the place to embrace my darkest thoughts, I cannot allow anyone else to penetrate into my inner sanctum. People are so disappointing, and I do not wish to add any more baggage to what I already deal with every waking moment. I know in my heart I will join Annie one day despite my being a coward. Life is finite and that day will come eventually.

Entry #52: Words have consequences

“Words have consequences”…Albert Marrin

This is a quote that we all hear often, and yet, can it determine how we feel and react to life events?

For the last twelve years and ten months, I have been living with despair, grief, and depression over losing Annie. These things have been my daily companions, and over time, I grew to depend upon them in order to allow myself to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Everything else in my life was pushed aside in order for me to embrace these three friends.

Over the years, I have started and discarded several attempts at journaling my experience through writing, until I began to chronicle it all on this blog. So far, this one has staying power. I have shared it with no one who I actually know in person, for fear of their judgement and the inevitable hateful comments which I experienced first hand when Annie and I were together.

No one…until I met my friend “A”. I met her last year over another project, and something just clicked in my mind. I could see in her eyes, a person who not only became my muse in writing, but appeared to be someone I could trust with my blog. So it was that I gave her the link and she began to read it.

This past week, she finished reading it. I have to say I was afraid at what her comments to me might be upon finishing it. My fears were unfounded. She did not judge me, nor make any disparaging comments. She had nothing but empathy and positive things to say about both the writing and our friendship. Whew, that was a relief!

But, then she hit me with three words that changed everything. She said, “I love you”.

Not in a romantic sense, but in being the person I am. She could see me! 

I love her! For the first time in so many years, I have found someone who does not judge me for who I loved. Someone who is interested in the things that I write and have to say. Someone who is also willing to reveal her stories to me as well.

Over the ensuing few days, everything changed. I have slept better. My three friends…grief, despair and depression appear to have abandoned me, at least for now.

Yet, without them, what am I to do? What am I to write about now? I will never stop writing about Annie, but could this be the beginning of something new in journaling my days and experiences? Will I actually have anything more to say? Would anyone care or read my musings if I did?

I don’t yet have an answer to those questions. 

Three little words have such an impact. While I have stayed away due to covid, I am hoping I can see her again in the next few weeks to discuss her observations in person. To be able to actually look into her eyes and see her…

Time will tell if I have more to say.