Not Ready to Move On

Back in April, Blake and I attended the wedding of one of my best friends from high school. Last night, as she and her husband were watching the reception video, she noticed that the videographer caught some moments of Blake and me dancing together. She recorded these shots with her phone and sent them to me in a text.

Today, I uploaded the clips to my computer so I could watch them again. The first moment I paused at was when Blake and I locked eyes. The way I looked at him can't be described as anything other than pure love. I know in that moment I was looking into his eyes thinking about how incredibly lucky I was to be dancing with him.

The second time I paused was at the point when I nestled into his shoulder and his hand came up to hold the back of my head. I started thinking about how good it must have felt to be held so lovingly like that. I wished with my whole heart that I could remember exactly what that felt like. As I replayed these clips, I began to wonder if I'd ever feel that in love, safe, and comfortable with anyone else ever again.

I closed my laptop and started wailing. My eyes filled so completely with tears that I couldn't see anymore. My mouth audibly struggled to take in air while it released moans of discomfort. Each hand grasped the opposite shoulder trying to hold onto myself as tight as possible. I ended up rocking back and forth, shaking and squeezing harder. I tucked my head into the crevice of my crossed arms as I continued to cry. At least all balled up like that my shrieks were muffled. I hoped that my neighbors were out like normal people enjoying their Saturday night. I hoped no one had to suffer through hearing such a soul shattering sound.

As this response subsided and I started to regain my composure, I was caught off guard by the intensity of my reaction. I had watched those clips earlier today and smiled with a quick, happy well of tears in my eyes. Why did re-watching them this time lead to a breakdown?

I tried to answer this question by thinking about the moments I chose to pause for and figuring out how they made me feel. In the first one I looked at Blake in a way that I can't imagine looking at anyone else. In the second, I was held in a way that makes me nauseous just thinking about anyone besides Blake holding me. After analyzing that, I think the reason I started freaking out was because I am realizing that I may not want to be with anyone else for a really long time.

I know that no one means to put pressure on me, but every once in a while people say insensitive things that make me feel awful about my "progress." It may be as harmless as saying, "When you're in your next relationship..." or as overt as, "I know a guy that I want you to meet. I think you'd really like him." I understand these people are only trying to help, but is it that awful that I'm still in love with Blake? That the thought of another man's interest or touch feels akin to a brutal attack? That I'd rather be alone than even entertain the idea of letting another man into my life?

Today marks four months since Blake passed away. For me, four months might as well be yesterday. In my heart Blake is still my boyfriend. I wish that wasn't considered weird or sad or pathetic by people who have no way of understanding what this feels like. I guess I just have to let them judge me. All I can do is have confidence that I'm doing what I need to be doing at a pace that feels right to me.