Obituary
Of a person and a relationship
I found a picture from our time together.
Description of image: woman leaning on her left side, wrapped in red sheet after lovemaking, some makeup smeared around her eyes. Resting head on left arm. Picture was taken in selfie mode. NoPa, San Francisco, c. 2014.
It was his favorite picture of me.
It competed with the one where I’m wearing the “I love LA” tank top but this was by far his favorite. He used to say I had puppy eyes. The effect of my gaze on him was visible to the naked eye. He would soften and bring his eyebrows up in concern then sigh and lean in towards my lips for a kiss or move closer for a whiff of my hair and an embrace.
He used to say “you melt me”.
I’m going through all our text messages now, ever since it got serious. Not when it started, before we loved each other, when it was all awkward and we were testing the waters.
But after.
After I cried in pain about the love I didn’t feel I was getting.
After I poured my fears and dreams out for him to hold and reflect back his admiration.
After he told his mom about me and pulled out his grandmother’s ring to give me.
After he gave me a custom-made ring and called me his wife and proudly walked with me.
I couldn’t be with him. He couldn’t be with me. I loved him. He loved me.
We hurt so many people during the course of this relationship, including our own selves. I want to talk to his “fiancee”. I don’t want to demean her but I need to know if he loved her as much as he claimed he loved me. He told me he’d love me forever, until his last breath. I do think that was true. I had him blocked and I didn’t receive the calls. But, like a friend said, our souls were linked.
I had been wearing a ring with his birth date on it and I didn’t know. A ring I had inherited from my grandmother, which had HIS birth date carved on the inside. I didn’t know it until, on his death day, I removed the ring and decided to look inside, on a hunch. In that moment, I also didn’t know it was his death date. I had been craving him and I didn’t allow myself to go there. He was gone, and I didn’t know but I was still connected.
He wore a ring with a Gordian knot.
He was sitting at the bar in the restaurant one day and I was working. He handed me his ring because I asked him. An electric shock ran through me when our fingers touched. It zapped us both and I dropped the ring on the bar while letting out a little yelp in surprise. I looked at him.
“Did you feel that?”
“Yes,” he replied.
When asked when the last time I saw him was, I was confounded. I didn’t remember. I didn’t see him on the street and, if I did, I avoided him. I had to flip back, through the memory archive, and I couldn’t believe how many good ones there were. I think the last time I saw him was when we went to the Morrissey show in San Jose. We bought tickets outside, he paid cash. We had a great time and drank. The show ended when they tackled him on stage and I was complaining about the lack of security. I remember the parking lot we parked in. We drove back and we were listening to Sirius XM. Down in a hole by Alice in Chains was playing and he was singing along, painfully. “Lord, I want to be inside of you”. I don’t remember seeing him after that night. The last, last time was when we went to Stones Throw for Shan’s birthday and we were driving Scott’s truck and listening to Rdio - Parov Stellar radio and we walked in and he was sitting at the bar. He sent us champagne. I thanked him and I ended it there.
I never thought I’d want this but I wish I had his voicemails. I wish I could hear his voice telling me he loves me and I’m the one. He was the one for me in so many ways. I was so scared and ashamed and closed up about it. I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t want to get hurt. I didn’t trust him. But I was so connected to him, so much more than others. We were so compatible with how we wanted to live our lives. I could see myself with him. In the house. With dogs. And cars. And amazing dinners. And good times.
I’m listening to all the songs and they sound like they’re for him.
I’m listening to all the songs he asked me to listen to and I didn’t back then.
I want to write him letters and spend time alone and process and grieve. I loved him and he loved me and we hurt many people and it was insane and psychotic and scary and it was ok.
It was all ok.