Deceased Friends, Dying Relationships... And Time Keeps Passing By...

I couldn't concentrate at work. My mind was thinking about this and that and the relationship of mine that is going down the tube. I've tried to keep it going, but he didn't like it because I moved out of his place and in with my mother. We aren't married, but we considered one another as significant others and even allowed people to believe that we were married, for the ease of explanation and the fact that it wasn't anybody's business anyways. Even though we lived as a couple, there was always the separation of him... and me. And there were always boundaries and secrets... and privacies that he demanded. His ex lover was his best friend. That never went over well with me. Actually, I embraced her, in the beginning... until I discovered that he was talking to her about our problems and he wasn't being honest, he was lying and making up some stuff... and being misleading... and refused to ask her to back off a bit (where previously they had spoken on the phone, every single day)... and she even sent a framed picture of herself. How nice. I place it on a shelf... until about a year later when I ripped it to shreds and chunked it in the garbage, frame and all! Enough of that bullshit, already!

When I was falling apart, financially, he wasn't backing me up. He says he was, because he was letting me stay there, rent free and provided most all of the groceries (it was his house, he asked me to move in, he knew my financial situation before I moved in, but he wanted to "take care of me"). I gave it a shot... for 3 years. I even fell in love with him. I ended up moving out, to save myself... financially... as well as emotionally. The lack of emotional support was awful. My mother needs help, she has physical problems. And so we help one another. Even though she is 85 and diabetic and has pulmonary hypertension, he is constantly afraid of dying... he thinks he will die from his liver disease (and yet he chooses to continue drinking every day) or a heart attack (because he did have a heart attack years ago)... and he resents my moving in with her... and can't understand that I was drowning emotionally and financially... and I had to do it to survive. I saw the relationship as a marriage... and where I come from, husbands and wives help one another when push comes to shove. What was I suppose to do? My mother knew I wasn't happy, she needed some help... she knew he wasn't helping me with any of my bills when times got bad... and so she offered... and I accepted. He feels abandoned.

A few days ago, I found out that an old friend passed away. I knew he would die of a heart attack one day... and that's exactly what took him. He was one hard partying dude, and he loves his scotch. He and his wife had been friends of mine years ago. Lots of laughs and good times. Seeing him lying there was eery. I'd never seen a dead person look so alive. He had hair down to the middle of his back, but for some reason they chose to pull it all back and hide it behind him in the casket... nevertheless, it looked as if he might pop right out and light one up for old time sake. He even had somewhat of a smile on his face. I hadn't seen him in 5 years. Nor his wife. The last time I saw them was when I had gone out to visit to let them know that my Tim had shot himself and was dead. They'd met him once... perhaps twice.

I told her... "Call me if you ever need to talk... I know how it feels", I said. "I know you do," she answered in reply.

Today I went out to my beloved state park, that same place that I go when I want to steal a moment or two to myself. I saw beautiful damselflies, smelled magnolia blossoms, watched minnows swim and fish jump, in the pond... and watched as a canoe went silenty and smoothly drifting by, down the South Edisto River that flows through the park... the lone occupant waved. It was a perfect day for canoing, birds over head, and the weather was just perfect. I sat and thought about my friend... of life and death... beginnings and ends.

I plan to rent a canoe myself, since I don't own one and can't ever talk the old "significant other" into it... he's much too occupied with the pottery that he so loves, to ever take a break for something that would interest me. While he's lived his life and feels he's dying... and doesn't have much interest in many of the things he's already done (been there done that) I feel that life is passing me by...

... I don't intend to let it pass me by any longer.