“It’s only a matter of days.”
I think I’ve been waiting for this to happen for ten years, so now that it’s finally happening I feel like I’ve been hit with a shock wave of reality. It was easy to pretend that this had already happened, that the goodbyes had been said, that when it actually happened it would feel like nothing because he had died a thousand times in my mind already. But now that it’s actually happening – well, I was never going to be totally prepared for the reality of this situation.
Every emotion. Every possible fucking emotion. Which frustrates me because I’d like to think that I’m emotionally stable enough to pick an array of emotions to feel about this and just stay within that limited but manicured set of emotions until those emotions dissipate. But I don’t know how I feel, and I don’t know how I want to feel. Part of me is preparing a paroxysm to parade around, some gushing of tears, the histrionics, wailing and gnashing of teeth, but, honestly, I’m too exhausted for that. Another part of me is filled with wrath, wants to jump up on table tops and shout with joy and spew bitter invectives and churn out harsh truths in a shocking fashion – but I also don’t want to give this that much energy. I want to be polished in whatever shape my sadness takes. Or, I mean, I don’t know if it will be sadness per se. I don’t know if I will cry. Am I supposed to cry? I know that crying is expected and natural, but I don’t know if there are tears in me for this. Am I just going to be…stoic? Unmoved? Indifferent? Is that who I am in the face of the death of my demon?
I would like to feel some sort of release, but I know that’s too much to ask. If anything, all I feel is frustrated. This is so fucking inconvenient. I feel like it’s a last ditch effort to drain me, to cajole me, to make me feel like a little kid all over again. It’s his last ditch attempt at hurting me, and I do not want to be hurt by this all over again. I definitely don’t want to relive all the hurt that he inflicted on me over my entire fucking life time. I will not give that to him. Nor will I dance on his grave – this is my quiet victory, one that I hold close to my heart. I will weather this like a woman, brave and strong. I am not going to sit there and watch him die – I do not want to be filled with bitterness and wrath all over again. That is just another way that he would win.
I want to let this go. I want this to be over with. I want the sadness to come and go. I want the tears to fall down my face or never show up at all. I want the condolences and looks of pity to pass and dissipate. I want to be months away from this already, just as it took me years to get away from him. I want this to be over with. I want him to be over with. I have always wanted him to be over with, and now that the end is near – I want this end to wash over me, and I want my new beginning. Right now.