Page 90 of Love Resurrected
I’m going through something right now that I don’t know how to deal with. But it feels life changing.
I’m expecting that feeling to come, the one where I need to run. Run from the situation to hide from the emotions it’s evoked.
It doesn’t come.
The guilt?
Oh, fuck yes, that’s still there.
But the need to escape the situation is not as dire as it once was. If anything, I only want to leave so I can talk to Kat about this. Tell her about Tenley, because I think they would like each other. And try to get a feel for how I move through life loving two women, one of whom is dead.
Wait a minute. Who said anything about love? I’m not in love with Tenley. I’ve just gotten to where I’m okay liking her.
I glance over at Tenley. Her head is turned, and she’s looking out the window, making it hard to read her expression. We’re both quiet after what happened. I can only imagine how it must feel to have a guy cry after sex.
Fuck.
I need to explain how I feel. Make her understand it’s not her, it’s me. Ha, isn’t that the perfect way to do it too? Jesus. I don’t know how to tell her what I’m thinking. What would I even say?
Way too soon, we’re pulling into her driveway.
She unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to face me.
“You okay?”
Am I okay? She’s asking if I’m okay. I’m the one who cried on her. I should be asking if she’s okay. Why am I so fucked up?
But I don’t say anything of those things. Instead, I nod and return the question.
“I’m good,” she mumbles, then opens the truck door and slides out without another word. I, too, remain silent. She doesn’t turn back and I wait until she’s inside the house before I drive away.
“Kat, what do I fucking do?” I ask the space around me, as I slowly take the twists and turns down the hill from Tenley’s house. She doesn’t answer, not that I expected her to. “I like her. But I can’t get past what it does to the memory of us.”
I can hear Nessa’s voice in my mind, saying,You can’t stop living your life just because someone you love lost theirs.And I see Kat nodding her head in agreement right alongside her, shaking her finger at me for not following through with my promise to love again. Logically, I know it’s true. Emotionally as well, based on experiencing my mother’s death when I was young. With the loss of my mother, the grief subsided after time, and life became much easier to take.
You can’t just meet a new mom three years later and make her a part of your life the way you can a romantic partner. My father eventually dated again after my mom passed. I’ve met countless people in my grief groups who have moved on and found love again, my friend, Andy, being one of them.
Iknowlife goes on. My mom and Kat aside, encountering death is not new to me as a first responder. Losing someone is a natural part of life. All living things die. The inevitability is charted from the beginning. So why is it so hard to accept when it happens?
I pull my truck to the side of the road, unsure if I want to go home to an empty house. As the four o’clock hour approaches, my only other options are an all-night diner or the fire station. I could go back to Tenley’s house. But, for what?
Sex?
Comfort?
Are those things fair to her? I don’t know what I fucking want. Who I am. How I feel.
Nessa’s words echo through my mind:There is no cure for grief, Bradley. I lean my head against the top of the steering wheel then bang against it a few times. How many hits does it take to knock sense into a person?
You know the answer.
I don’t know the answer. My subconscious is fucking with me. If I knew the answer, I wouldn’t be conflicted. I also wouldn’t be sitting on the side of the road hitting my head against the steering wheel.
Feeling love again does not diminish what you’ve felt before.
Oh, but it does. It fucking does. How will they even compare?
There is no comparison. Each love is different whether it be romantic, familial, friendly . . .
