A Letter...

Sweetheart, it's sometimes a small comfort to know that other people out there have lost someone like I've lost you and that they understand. I got a very thoughtful letter from somebody like that who I don't even know and far across the globe. I just wrote this terribly kind person back and here's what I said, my darling:

Dear friend, I'm sorry you're feeling so blue. I am, too, actually, so I very much understand. The huge hole in my life, my desperate longing for Summer is always there but sometimes I can find simple moments of pleasure in little things or day to day encounters, even working toward something that seems rewarding or worthy. And, then, yes, other times nothing seems of any interest or import or comfort and I simply wish this could all be over and I could be taken. Yesterday was largely like the latter.  I was dragging myself through the entire day and at some point well before dark I'd just given up. I wish I'd been at least as productive as you - I've a pile of books I'm meaning to read, indeed have been meaning to get to for a year at the least. Instead, I simply lay on the sofa and let Netflix and a basketball game I didn't care too much about carry me into the night. At least I slept. I was down by 11pm and didn't rise this morning until 11am. Maybe the weekend will find me better but truthfully weekends may be even harder as they seem so keenly lonely. When I feel like this, there's really nothing I can imagine that would soothe me. Nothing but death and deliverance. Summer's best girl friend Danya told me early on in my mourning when she thought I might self-harm, that if I did I "would never find her (Summer)". Later, I asked Danya if her saying that meant that she believed in an afterlife and indeed what her beliefs were exactly. She couldn't tell me, didn't really have any. But somehow even though Danya's words were unmoored to any faith, they still had resonance for me. It's not impossible that words of great grace and import can fall from the lips of even the faithless, all unknowing. So, when I say I want deliverance, I know I can't do anything to bring it on myself. I just have to get through the days as best I can. And some days won't be good - let alone my best - at all. I may have many many more days where I give up before the sun has set. Where I let mindless passive viewing subdue me into tiredness and try again the next day. Maybe I'll get to actually picking up one of those books. But, yes, as you say, it's good to at least be able to tell someone, to tell each other things like this and know we'll be understood, know we've found a sympathetic ear. Know we've found a friend.

With love & faith,

-m