“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing.
At other times, it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not me.
There are moments, most unexpectedly, when something inside me tries to assure me that I don’t really mind so much, not so very much, after all. Love is not the whole of a man’s life. I was happy before I ever met H. I’ve plenty of what are called “resources”. People get over these things. Come, I shan’t do so badly. One is ashamed to listen to this voice but it seems for a little to be making out a good case. Then comes a sudden jab of red-hot memory and all this “common-sense” vanishes like an ant in the mouth of a furnace.” - C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed
I surprised myself when I started to miss him. I only met him a few times, but we been talking on the phone almost everyday since the day we had a leisurely dinner at my friend’s house.
Sometimes we have interesting things to say, other times it is just silence. During those silent moments we wait quietly and patiently for a thought to flow through. On active days I would do a little bit of cleaning and comment on things I find in my house. Most nights I’m under my covers, sometimes drifting in and out of sleep. It is durning those long hours on the phone that I’m learning bits of him; his values, interests, perspectives.
He is different from him. At first I can’t help to compare. Who has better taste, smarter, quicker, funnier. Now I see that there is no point in doing that. He is he and he is he.
We’re going to meet again for the first time tomorrow. Not sure where this will go, I’m just going with the flow.