Something happened this week and I mentioned it to friends and work colleagues, if I'm honest looking for empathy, sympathy and a massive dose of shared outrage. That didn't happen, people said "who?" and when I explained "oh, who was Mark?" and that is a the most massive head f*ck. Why would they know? I've moved house, moved jobs and they know the me that is in a relationship with Craig, not Mark. They know a different person to the person I was pre 2015 and a very very different person to the one I was in 2016.
I never had the privilege of being able to fall in a heap and I didn't, only two friends saw me break (and possibly the postman when he drove past and I was howling in the car in a lay-by). I wouldn't change what I did then or how I live my life now.
When your partner dies everyone has an opinion on how you live your life, they judge, dating included of course. Eventually acquaintances dished out the platitude "Mark would have wanted you to meet someone else" and I'd cringe a little and roll my eyes. Maybe, maybe not (interesting conversation one night when I'd found a lump and casually said "oh well, if this kills me, crack on and meet someone else" - lets just say it did not go down well!!) In my head I say "he doesn't get an opinion, he's dead" but the years when I had absolutely no filter (common in widows) have gone and I don't actually say it. He would however have been proud of me.
What no one realises until it happens to them is the broken guilt of loving and wanting the future that is in front of you – even though you couldn’t have had it without the loss of the person behind you.
"Talk to the heartbroken ones.
They will teach you what is real, how to live alone.
How to finish
And how to start all over again."
Life Tales | Sahil Verma