I don’t want this. I’m so confused. Nothing makes sense anymore. Rupert is ashes in a box next to me in bed. I don’t want the grief. I don’t want to carry this with me the rest of my life. It hurts too much to bare. It’s endless and its deep and it doesn’t make sense. He’s everywhere I look and nowhere. This is the worst pain there is.
I don’t want to wake up tomorrow. In 14 minutes, it will be the day of Rupert’s memorial. I can’t do this. I can still hear echos of my wails of oh my god oh my god oh my god when I heard he’d died. He was killed. Anguish. It hurts. It’s unbearable.
I need him here with me. He needs to be here with me. We were happiest together. I’m not strong enough to do this. I feel so weak and fragile and broken and lost. I’m so scared. He’s gone forever and it doesn’t make any sense. If only he were here right now, by my side. This hurts so much I don’t know how long I can feel this way.
I’m getting tired from the sleeping pill I took. I’ll try to get some sleep. It’s getting out of bed tomorrow that I don’t know how to face.
“Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried.”
We said, “I love us” more than we said, “I love you.”
Come on, Pee!
Rupert and I had the weirdest thing in common- our bladders. We both have to pee before we leave and when we arrive. And not too much longer after that. No one was getting upset at the other when you had to run and pee before leaving the house. We got each other.
I had a strong memory the other night sitting on the toilet, peeing before bed. Like Rupert, I would sit a few minutes to really empty my bladder before going to bed, or I would be up in a few hours. I heard his voice loud and strong in my head, “Come on, Pee!” he would say. “Come on, Pee!” I would reply. And eventually the pee would come, but it helped making it a silly thing that we both understood.
Today I had to fill out a DE-111 form. There are no instructions online on how to deal with our situation, which was this:
Rupert’s next of kin is not an American citizen, we have not yet found the Will, and he and I were not married or living together. My name is not on his lease. The landlord needs to protect himself while there is no Will (yet!) to make sure the rightful heir doesn’t come out of the woodwork next week and we’ve cleared everything out. Makes sense, but there is no one who could do this, and he couldn’t be nastier to us. We went to the county court house to get a court order to file with his landlord. Mission accomplish.
There was no boilerplate to this document. I had to fill out a blank page about what and why I wanted, and I had to make it fire proof. Here is what I wrote on attachment 3f(3):
Petitioner requests authority to:
- have full and unfettered access to the property at (address) through to the end of the lease of (deceased’s name). This includes all keys, as well as access to and the right to make decisions and execute the decisions of all personal and financial items of the deceased in the home, backyard, and garage.
- The landlord will not oversee the actions of the special administrator or the deceased’s next of kin or any friends or family.
- The special administrator is authorized to discuss and access all personal property, financial property, real property, Will if found, insurance, death investigation, and all of the deceased’s documents, accounts, and claims.
- The special administrator will make and execute decisions regarding the deceased’s personal property, real property, and home, and make decisions on who may have access to the home at (address).
- All points above demonstrate the authorization of the special administrator (name), as well as the deceased’s next of kin, (name).
Grief feels simultaneously endless and like I should be fine by now. Won’t I wake up and feel fine soon?
We are supposed to be in Greece. Together. Right now. Instead, I’m home with anxiety and NorCal’s finest medicine keeping me from freaking out because my boyfriend is dead. We knew each other 29 years and we only had one year and a week together. That just can’t be right. It can’t. Why is he dead?
Thank god you had that amazing year, they say. He was so happy, and he died so quickly. That’s the way to go out! they say. Well, maybe this is selfish, I mean, I’m happy he was happy, the happiest of his entire life, but I’m the one that has to live without him. I was also that happy and now I’m alone, and he’s gone forever. We were planning the rest of our lives together.
Now he’s gone, and I’m lost.