Tuesday, 11 March 2014

Dear Alex, The Room That Sunk.

This shot was taken on our last ever dog walk with Oliver in France before we moved back to England.




Dear Alex,

Tuesday, two days before my birthday day, another year older approaching and I sit, tissues on hand in the Counsellor's room this morning.

Able to talk about it all, everything, able to release, not worry that I am crying, talking about 'me', that is what I am there for, so I feel no guilt at just discussing me!

I am dreading my Birthday, each year that has passed with you gone has been the same. My beautiful Aunty and wonderful Grandpa are coming up to take me out for an early Birthday Lunch tomorrow, my friend is taking me out for Breakfast on my Birthday day, before I head off for yet another meeting, your discharge meeting at Exeter. Saturday night I have arranged a dinner and drinks with the girls, which will be my 3rd night out in nearly 3 years…

As I discuss at length, without interruption how the week has been, how I have been feeling and so on, I am able to face things I do not do on a day-to-day basis.

I come to many realisations, just in saying things out loud sometimes.

I breathe out my pain, cry out my soul's scars.

I try not to go under.

She asks me where I felt I was in accepting what had happened. The acceptance thing has always been a very difficult one for me. Several reasons underly this: That accepting it means I give up on hope, that accepting it means I finally have to say goodbye to who you were. It carries such weight, which was the strange thing, I fell silent for a long while after she asked me this. Then realised I had accepted it.

My heart fell.

You left me all over again in that acknowledgement.

She leans forward slightly saying 'Tamsyn, if this room could sink under the weight that I feel coming from you at the moment, I would suffocate'

So heavy was this weight, it nearly sunk the room.

It sunk my world.

It suffocated me.

I hate Birthdays, I hate them without you, you will not even be aware it is my Birthday, let alone write me a little note, or look after me and treat me to a lie in or to making me cups of tea, doing the washing up for me! Nothing. I do not care about presents from you, I care about time and laughter and companionship from you.

None of which I shall get from you.


I miss you forever.


Me xxxxxxxxxxxxxx


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