Dear Alex, Everything Changes.
Living two lives is how I live at the moment. With you not even having day trips home (although I hope this is soon to change) I have my life up with you, visiting you, privately wanting you and missing you, and a life where I put a big smile on my face, socialise, a life completely separate to you.
It has become more and more this way, it has become my coping mechanism.
It allows me to deal with a life outside you. A life where I am a single mum of four. A life where I have friends over, I plan activities with other families. I do it without you.
I feel you are on a more even keel, it has the effect of making me so too.
When I come to see you, you just cling onto me, kissing me, telling me how much you love me, I cherish this Alex.
Although I know I have a very different you now.
It is strange how everything is different. So different. In a way I could never have been prepared for, a way I never thought I would be capable of dealing with.
I almost feel completely detached from any sense of pain at the moment. Then it changes in an instant and I am back to square one, then I have to find soothing I am grateful, to offer up thanks and praise for, and I watch our babies, listen to their chatter, witness their smiles and little ways, and I bring myself back to coping again.
The brain damage has meant that you have no motivation to change anything, be any different. It is all done 'to' you. You participate, progress, but you have had your main personality trait eradicated by the haemorrhage … your determination and motivation.
I am trying to understand this at the moment and come to terms with an Alex that I didn't know when we got together.
An Alex that is the new Alex, yet not the man I once met.
I will see you in the morning, and keep trying to be your motivation for you…
I love you honey,