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Of all the stages of grief, the one I am least familiar with is anger.

I'm feeling it tonight.

I'm angry at him.

I'm angry at him for leaving me.
Angry at him for not somehow managing to overcome a mortal wound and triumph for us to live happily ever after together.

True love conquers all, right?

I know he would have died for me.
But he wasn't able to save his own life and live for me.

I'm angry that this evening I stood at my window and looked out on the beautiful spring evening and he wasn't there beside me in the flesh to savor it with me. Angry that this place is not our home.

I'm angry at him for not winning that last fight, after he'd been victorious over so much else.

I'm angry at him for not managing to overcome all the limitations of both our states -- and my own damned lack of Talent -- and make it possible for me to see him vividly.

I'm angry that I'm alone, when I should be living joyously with the love of my life.

I'm angry because there's not a damn fucking thing I can do to bring him back, because I've wanted so little in this life and the thing I wanted most of all was wrenched away from me, and there wasn't anything I could do to make a difference. I could only hold him as he died.

I'm angry because he's right here beside me, aching for me, for my pain, for our separation, and I can feel him just enough to know it, but not enough to savor him fully.



( 7 comments — Leave a comment )
May. 14th, 2010 05:56 am (UTC)
Ah, I know this stage, though my anger is not directed at my father (or at least, not regarding in grieving over death). It is instead directed at the agencies that I know contributed to his cancer, and the doctors that could not repair his colon when it burst twice, which left him no choice but to slowly starve to death while being pumped full of enough painkiller to make a horse ill.

This anger of yours I know you can get through. You are strong and have good roots, even though it still feels like they are flailing about in the air. Your mate is still with you, still fighting for you. Yes, he wasn't able to overcome that wound, and we both know how bad that hurts. No, it doesn't seem right that something like this would happen.

Now, what you choose to do with that anger, my dear sister on this path, is up to you. That you can feel is good, that you can feel is healthy, but do not let yourself become consumed. I know you won't. Acknowledging and admitting is good. I hope that you can figure out how to use this to fuel some way to feel his presence more strongly, to still be close but not to be bound together in such a way as to restrict YOUR life.

Many many hugs for you.
May. 14th, 2010 06:13 am (UTC)
I hear you, friend. Be good to yourself.
May. 14th, 2010 06:41 am (UTC)
May. 14th, 2010 12:54 pm (UTC)
~stands with you~

Just letting you know you were heard.
May. 14th, 2010 01:04 pm (UTC)
Somehow this post is a relief to me. Maybe because it is a sign that you are allowing yourself to be fully present with your feelings, rather than suppressing them and delaying your healing.

I am sad for you, but I am also proud of you.
May. 15th, 2010 05:16 am (UTC)
I'm too sick to write, really, but just wanted you to know that I'm here. *hugs*
Jul. 12th, 2010 07:28 pm (UTC)
Thanks for exposing your authentic anger in words. I find the authenticity of it, the realness of it... educative of the human spirit in flesh. The journey of grief. So thank you.
( 7 comments — Leave a comment )


Queen of Swords

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