July 6th, 2005

butterfly

Thoughts, Six Years

I'm doing okay today. A little sad, but not drowning. Thanks for all the good wishes. I took the day as a Personal Day from work, so I've just spent it quietly and attemptedly peaceful.

I slept in. I lit a candle. I putzed around on the computer for too long, relaxed, spent some time thinking.

I saw a matinee of Star Wars because it is something Stevie loved. He got to see Episode One, but I've had to watch Two and Three for him. I treated myself to a bunch of junk food during the movie. I enjoyed it. He would have too.

I was thinking of getting a pedicure. I've never had one, and I thought it would be a gentle thing to do for myself today. But I didn't get around to it. Been extremely slow-moving and less-than-motivated.

That's okay.

I look at that photo, which I have done a million times today, and I think a cascade of thoughts all at once:
gosh we were young
what a great picture of him, his smile
why didn't I remember to keep my chin down?
gosh we look happy


That picture was taken while we were on a four-day cruise together, in 1998 I think. We went to Cozemel and Key West. My first and last cruise, so far. I really enjoyed it, and I definitely would love to do another someday. But it's something I want to do with somebody, as I don't think it would be fun alone. I will again. Someday.

The cruise was before we were engaged. But he convinced me to tell everybody we met a story: we told everyone we were on our honeymoon. Just for a fun make-believe vacation game. We did, and it was neat pretending to be a just-married couple. It was naughty and adventurous, trying on a different life for a weekend.

I don't think I've ever told anybody that story before.

I think it was around six months later that he proposed to me for real, and I said Yes. Hard to believe, both then and now, that I was really going to get married. Well, thought I was.

(For those reading who may be newer to my life, Stevie was my fiance a long time ago. We had been living together over a year, were planning our wedding, then some things went wrong and on a cheerful sunshiney Tuesday in July he shot himself. In the chin. In our kitchen. He died instantly.)

It's been six years, and I only dated him for around three (though I knew him longer). That's nearly impossible to believe: three years seems so short, six years seems so long. But he is a part of my heart, and sometimes I still get sad. Especially in June/July.

I tend to spend a little bit of time, this time of year, remembering him. He was a good man and doesn't deserve to be forgotten. Not that I ever could forget him....