Isn’t it funny, the things you find yourself missing about a person? Isn’t it funny, the small trivial things you get upset about after missing a person? The silly things that you remember? The thoughts that run through your mind? I suppose not, since after all, were all only human.
A fortnight ago the light bulb in my bedroom went out. I had a full blown meltdown. Yep. A meltdown. Over a light bulb. A light bulb I am too short to reach. It was the first time I felt alone. Alone because he wouldn’t be coming over on Wednesday’s anymore.
I keep thinking of the little things. One of the first things I thought was how much I would miss his bolognese (whoever he makes that for next is damn lucky) I hated it before (too much tomato) but it slowly became one of my favourites. Then I thought, god will I ever meet another man who loves turnip just as much as me? Which made me miss our Sunday’s. I keep thinking of October and when Stranger Things series three is released on Netflix and wondering if he will watch it alone (I still haven’t changed my password). I miss his cups of tea and good morning texts. I miss his love of raw veg and how he cleans his plate. See, it’s the little things. Because all of the little things add up to one big thing.
I miss his shoulders and the feeling of safety being in his arms. I miss his smile and the sound of his voice when he said “hello”. I miss his shirts and I miss his crazy coloured socks. I miss his support and I miss his enthusiasm. I miss his jokes even the ones that weren’t funny.
Sometimes I catch myself missing him more than I miss her. It’s only because I know that unless ghosts are real she is never coming back. Ever. He’s out there still, like I said before, working five days a week. Living his life. Without me. This was a decision he made just like she did. And it’s out of my control.
Losing someone is tough. Missing them is harder. Wondering why you weren’t enough? Even worse.
I always wonder what advice she would give me, what she would think and what she would say. She would probably tell me to get over myself. But it’s hard and I think it’s harder for me because of how much he was there. He was there with me and witnessed the worst time of my life. He helped me and gave me a strength I never knew I had. He has seen the most terrible parts of myself and my family. Not just that he saw but that he was apart of them. I never knew unconditional love until that man stood beside me and I trusted that he would always be standing there no matter what.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing. And in hindsight I wonder if I told him how grateful I was? How happy he made me? How beautiful a person he is? I don’t think I did. I think I trusted him too much to know, that I could of took him for granted. So today when I went for a packet a biscuits I found the packet he bought me and I remembered. I remembered how he bought me the wrong ones. I remembered being disappointed that he got me the wrong ones. But he only got me the wrong ones because the shop didn’t have the right ones. He bought me the best alternative so I still had some biscuits rather than none at all. And I was still disappointed.
Opening those biscuits today made me teary. At first I didn’t want to open them because once I ate them they would be gone. Just like he was. Then I realised wether I ate the biscuits or not, it wouldn’t make a difference.
So yes it’s true what they say… You don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone. And that light bulb in my room is still out.
Thanks for reading x