the necessary conversation

I started this entry quite a few weeks ago but didn't finish it.  I was at the height of some pretty strong emotions then, wanted to take more time to record my thoughts and my journey so I didn't finish the entry.  Am in a calmer place now so today's the time to come back and finish this, the journey so far.

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I never knew I have never left the spot where his body lied, covered in newspapers and my tears - since 2 years and 11 months a go.

I have went on to grieve and mourn my loss all this time, but thinking I have moved on to live and new life by myself, independent and new.

Every time I am shown a little love, or care by someone else, it breaks my heart and makes me cry because I always wish that it was him instead.  Many would tell me, "See, he is still around and he has come back to love you and care for you in the forms of other friends and admirers."

Every time someone express a little interest in me I tell myself it is not right...just not right.

...and to earn another's love and fondness, admiration is such a magical thing.  What do I still have in me that could make anyone look at me that way?

What would I do, how could I ever meet another soul, like Justin, who fell for me like he did?

How could there be another person on earth who would be attracted to me for simply the glow he saw in me when I start to sing?

How could I recreate another .......so pure his intention, "I just want you to be happy."

Maybe I suffer because I had hoped to find one more in this life.  And in the back of my head I already understood that no two persons are the same.

Furthermore, I have grown older, and have become something else in the past years.  

What attracted him to me back in 2002 was a one time in the universe event and to hope that something close to that `explosion' to take place in the future, to be similar in nature, is entirely impossible.

For this person who felt like that when he saw me singing on stage, has ceased to be alive.  And the person who sang on stage back in 2001 has lived on to be something else.

He was a mere mortal with flaws, like me.  But the ingredients of his love were, to me, pure and quite out of this world.  He just wanted to see me sing, and sing more he wanted me to do - because it made me happy, pure bliss.  And the same he wanted of others, he was just a boy who loved to make others happy.

Yea.  I laugh to myself now, how could I trust that I would come close to such fortune ever again?  If never ever to find something close to that, what would I do to convince myself of the meaning of this remaining life?  I throw many options at myself, all these 35 months of time.  Music, music, music, become a worthy being to others, music, be a worthy person...etc.

Along the way I have discovered my many many weaknesses, my weak mind, how easily I succumb to the negative end of a situation, how vulnerable I actually am, how terrible a cry baby I am, and how self-centred I must smell like in my little whirlpool of loss and mourning.

There have been sunny days too, and many many fantastic new experiences made on my own, with new people, new friends, new things, new routines.  On those days I just sailed.

But somehow this new year of 2013 has been nothing other than a funk of confusion, self-doubts and clouds of depression, all mixed up in a big ball of activities.  I have done some little research on depression and what people do about it but that didn't do anything for me.

Then came July the draught, the unpaid bills, more doubts, lots of time to be alone and think, and read.  Reading makes me feel better and calmer, cooking too.  So I read and cook, eat, and read, and play music, listen to CDs.

Then came a point one day quite recently when I was lying in bed thinking some more...something just snapped, and I decided that I was tired of feeling like shit, I have enough of the shit feeling.  I wasn't sure what I was going to do to keep it away, I just knew that I was sick of staying and being in the gut.

This soul-searching is both tiresome and/but tireless for me.  I reviewed the friendships I keep with others, I review the way I work, reminders of how little I plan for my future (practically none), review what are my real strengths, review my songs, my voice...review my views on relationships, on men..etc.

On men, back in 2011 I saw myself as someone eager to learn to love again.  I allowed work and music to take the front seat and cruised along with glee because the work fulfilled me, there was not a quiet moment to wallow in the absence of someone special.  Time passes and gigs came and went, I grew more lonely and there was lots of longing for him or someone.  At the same time I was growing attached to my convenient...what I called, the `single singer life'.  Too comfortable in my cocoon, I did nothing to change my status - a deliriously tragic and foolishly romantic widowed person, indulging in her easy single-hood, just stay missing him.

Besides, this is not a good place to be fishing for new romantic relationships.  My environment (circle) is far too homosexual; working and meeting married men is a norm of my routine, and ah, working and meeting men a decade or more my junior is usually the case.  I cherish the new friendships I found at work and some new friends I have made.  Granted, friends are not lovers like him whom I counted on for much more support but the good ones are those I talk to, to keep my sanity intact.

The road ahead won't get easier, at least I don't want to expect it to be.  I just hope to stay focused on what keeps me alive while he is no loner alive.

The deeds of his life.

Music.

My sports and hobbies.

His family.

Watching others live.

I will promise myself to keep this conversation alive and honest.  There is no shame in coming out as a tragic person as long as I have decided to stay alive and contribute.