People leave. That’s what keeps going through my head this past week. People leave. It’s from a movie I think…maybe a book I read…I dunno…but it’s stuck in there. People leave.
In the last 5 years, both my parents and my son have passed away. A little over a year ago my very best friend, Darth, died quite unexpectedly and my girlfriend Mae finally gave in to a long illness not 6 months ago. Whoever said what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger was full of shit. If it didn’t kill you, you were already strong. Every time my life was turned upside down I wanted to stay in bed, under the covers, for as long as humanly possible… but I eventually did get up. So, I’m decently versed in death … grief … heartache … sadness that sits inside you and weighs you down like a stone. What I’m not used to is the living leaving me.
I was blindsided last week to find out (on FaceBook no less) that someone I cared for had thrown me away…and very, very publicly. You can tell so much about a person by the way they leave you. Were they honest, were they kind, were they sensitive to your feelings? Or were they weak, self-absorbed cowards who didn’t say a word and hoped that maybe you’d fall off the edge of the world so they wouldn’t have to face you with their assholeness. That may be a bit harsh….perhaps I’ll edit that out when this is done….but maybe not…it’s the truth. It was devastating to find out he wasn’t the man I had envisioned, but honestly not nearly as much as discovering he wasn’t the friend I had thought him to be. The disappointment at this lack of character and virtue is palpable and far worse than the original grief of losing him to his new life. I was, truth be told, a consolation prize in case nothing better came along (and a couple months ago, something better came along). I’d like to say she seems like a lovely person…and some parts of her may be, but I’ve seen that she is either stupidly clueless (and not the endearing type) or a previously desperate woman now reveling in her perceived win, as after having THE conversation, I kindly asked that the “happy new couple” FB posts take a break for a short while to allow me some dignity and time to adjust to my loss and to let the pain subside. We do, after all, have a decent amount of friends in common on social media. The tagging started almost immediately after this conversation (which she was a part of) from her end…endless pictures and videos showcasing their new love for each other. A virtual “fuck you I win I win I win he’s alllll mine”. He has not done a thing to alleviate it, nor has he reached out with an “oh mah bad, I didn’t realize her tagged stuff would show up on my feed for you and the world to see” (this would be where the weak, cowardly characterization came from). I don’t like weak men, I like strong dominant men who know how to treat women…all women. Feeling a little petty, but I kinda think I’M the winner here, I think I have dodged a bullet (or the bullet dodged me in this case). I have no illusions that he will read this (even though he gets my feed) and/or feel any remorse (if he did read it). He will not have the guts to out himself and publicly apologize to me…in the comments here, in FB…anywhere. I am no longer a blip on his radar. 10 years…put in a box and left on the side of the road….erased. (dejection is ugly folks)
In recent retrospect, I’ve noticed that I keep myself connected to people who have left me (in death) with literal shrines. I have not changed a thing in my mom’s house, I always want to walk into it and see it like it has always been my entire life, like my dad’s sitting in his recliner watching the Saints and my mom’s sipping coffee in the kitchen. I have never changed a thing in my son’s room…including the clothes piled on the chair or the Magic cards and comics on the dresser and part of the floor. The land that we shared in SL that Darth landscaped and “decorated” (or blew up, depending on your take of a run down apocalyptic-like town) has stayed exactly the same. I inherited Mae’s dog, cat and little flying fairies and they have a home here in Sanctuary. It occurs to me that this is maybe not healthy. It’s certainly not cheap. So I’m taking baby steps here. The easiest thing that will also save me money is dismantling some of the builds on my land and putting said land up for sale. Not all, but at least over half… and even so…it breaks my heart. There’s now no one to share it with, no one to appreciate the history of it with me. People leave.
So I spent the last couple of mornings going through Darth’s town, reminiscing with myself and taking pictures. And crying…I’ve done a lot of crying. As much as I hate to do it, later tonight or tomorrow….or when I do get up the nerve…I’ll log Darth on and start picking most of his things up. He would flip out up there in heaven (fingers crossed) if I just returned them in bulk….or individually as many are no copy pieces. I’m looking at keeping some things intact, just scooting them over to the smaller area I’ve mapped out in my mind. I’m putting the pictures below as a visual reminder of a time once loved and cherished. A new kind of shrine perhaps. Baby steps. I’m not editing them, not signing them, just cataloging them as they will never be asked to hang in the Lourve or MMA or any gallery. If you’re reading this and want to pop by in the next day or so…or honestly…this week…here’s the LM for Sanctuary by the Sea.
Here’s my takeaway. I am strong. It’s what makes me get up every day and weigh the pros and cons of dying my hair pink. It’s what makes me curse and threaten to fire the damn elves because my dishes are still in the sink, unwashed. It’s what makes me so happy to have coffee in my life. To paraphrase a meme I once came across…I’m not looking for a hero, I’m looking for a sword. I’m taking the gift of enlightenment and moving on and up. With my coffee. Coffee doesn’t leave.