POZ Community Forums
Meds, Mind, Body & Benefits => Mental Health & HIV => Topic started by: thunter34 on October 05, 2007, 03:20:13 pm
-
(Long and largely unedited post to follow. Pretty much written in one go, and I think I'm just going to leave it as it is. I do reserve the right to post maybe one or two other things later in this thread if I really feel I must, but hopefully this one pass will successfully do what I need it to do for me. I don't know for sure which forum this should go in, but my conviction is that it should be here as it exists in an attempt to rescue my spirit and my sanity. For anyone who may not know, this is a companion piece for this other thread I posted recently in Living With:
http://forums.poz.com/index.php?topic=15983.0 (http://forums.poz.com/index.php?topic=15983.0)
No replies necessary, but any are welcomed. I was struck by how many people on here have been directly and profoundly impacted by losses from suicide. That said, you can post replies related to this if you want, or perhaps write something for someone you've lost if you think it might help you to do so. It’s up to you. However you wish to respond if you choose to do so. I have no intended direction for this thread beyond this initial post.)
~From Here On My Side~
I don’t know if there is any possibility at all that you are now somehow able to see this, hear it, feel it or receive it somehow. The only real Gospel is that not a one of us really fucking knows anything but how things work in this life, on this earth…and we’re grasping for even that. But I’m sending this out anyway because whether or not it reaches you, it has to leave me. This is the best that I know how to do now, hon. I’m having to draw from what little I have and take or create some relief for myself however I can. So with that in mind, I’m going to let myself believe that this finding you now, ok? So you are here now for this, and you are open to hear what I have to say. Here goes.
I have no idea how much impact (if any) our recent relationship may have had on the decision you made. I’m just going to try to speak from the experience of you as an individual and of the time we spent together.
You know, the low down dirty shame of it all is that I have already had this conversation with the air on a few rides back and forth from your place. Well, bits and pieces of it in various mental drafts. I was preparing it for your ears. I wanted to make a point of telling you this and saying it as nakedly as possible so that I could put my mind at ease that your heart was at rest about the matter. I most likely would have been telling you this very thing at this very hour, right there in your presence, face to face. This makes a poor substitute for that, but it will have to do.
First off, I know you loved me. I hope when you went away that you knew – completely - that I also loved you. And I still do. Was I in love with you? Baby, I'm still sticking to the same story I told when you were still here: It was too early for me to know that, and too soon for me to proclaim it even if I did.
Still, where just the two of us are concerned, I suppose I will always wonder most if you thought that it was something about you that was not good enough for me to say those words yet. So I have to take this time-space here between head, heart, paper and screen as the opportunity I still have available to me, and say this to you:
You could have been nothing short of a prince and the answer would've still been the same. I need time before I am going to be ready for that. Nothing short of a prince, hon- and I can swear that to be true because you were. You were always a prince to me, darlin'. You never wronged me, raised your voice at me- you offered me everything you had, and more really. I suspect you spent more than you could really afford in an effort to dote on me a little. You never said a word out of your mouth that was not in praise of me. I heard it, babe. I did. And I saw it and felt it within and without. None of it was unnoticed, nothing unappreciated. You were prince and pauper all in one, boy. Scarcely a pot to piss in…just like me. But you were rich in the things that I most valued.
I suspect that you never realized that the truth was that I had higher regard for you than I have had for myself for much of my life. That's right: I looked up to you in many ways. I needed time to guard my heart and to know if I was going to be what you deserved...because I've not always been strong or wise in the other relationships I have been in. The promise I had made to myself was that the next relationship I got in would be the last one. And I will not declare myself part of any such union until I know I am complete enough to make a worthy half. That promise is with me still, even though you are not. And I held that promise precisely because I gave such testaments the same reverence you did. Because it - and you - mattered. If I could not keep true to a promise to myself, what business have I got making promises to others? The reward of my way is that when you get such oaths from me, you will know you can believe in them. I deserve that for myself. And so did you.
You got rather emotional once while talking about some pretty sensitive moments from your life. I remember you suddenly turning your teary eyes straight to mine and swearing of yourself that you had a heart of gold, and it was as if you felt an urgency that I believe it. Like you thought that no one would see it. It was like a beaten dog desperate for a home and rescue. Pleading that someone looking on him might see past the scars and imperfections, the visible signs of poor nourishment and neglect. To see deeper to the still gentle animal underneath, one ready to offer endless affection and unconditional love to whoever might somehow see the companion within. I am almost certain that you never got it that I needed no convincing about your heart. I saw it all in you.
And I also recognized much of myself in you. We were both just a pair of scruffy mutts, running together in the hillsides. And we sure put a lot into a very brief space of time. It startles me now to see it mapped on a calendar. How very short it all was. I was prepared to be a partner and friend. And there was real possibility that I could also one day call you boyfriend, husband or some similar title. There’s just no way to know how that part of it may or may not have played out. And none of it between us was given any dignified amount of time to find out.
There. That's really all there is to say about that. Now I need to confront this other.
The best I can make of this confused and horrible experience is that I know that you are at peace now. And that is a certainty whether one believes in a heaven or simply an end; it holds for the devout and atheist alike. But you did believe, and so it is my wish that your faith has found reward. I wish heaven for you and a seat at the side of your Mother to share company forever. This is all that I know that you would ask of a heaven: Just a home to share with family and a desire for that family to ever grow.
If you have proven right, and you now walk some garden with angel wings or such, and if you can somehow hear this now, then I would ask one thing of you: Put in a good word up there that just a portion of that comfort be granted down here to me, that I might come to be at peace with what has come to pass and see the way to walk forward from here. I know that you will if you can.
It's strange. You spoke so much about the notion of me leaving you. And here you went and left me, and much sooner than I ever could have imagined. You expressed so many fears and doubts like that one. You were fearful of what AIDS might bring to you in time. You had the same worries over the potential of cancer, of being unable to care for yourself, of losing the home you had shared with your Mother, of dying alone...meeting the grave without someone to claim as your partner, your companion, your loved one.
And I don't know if you ever recognized that even without any relationship declaration, I was already prepared to be all that and more as a presence in your life. I was prepared to be the one you might have to have at your bedside if things got bad. I was already resolved to be at your graveside if that should have to come to pass. But not like this. I will be there for your service, yes. But I am not prepared.
So do what you can for me about that comfort, ok? If not from some higher entity, just try to wish some into being for me from yourself. Provide me enough strength for the days I still have ahead of me and wisdom to follow the truest path until I one day reach the place where you are now.
Alright. I suppose we’re here now. I don’t know that there’s anything else that I can say without having you able to answer back to me. Nothing else to do and nothing else to work with. I have to trust this is enough.
I'm letting you go here now, babe.
This is it- the very last words! What should they be? I know:
"It was an honor to know you in this short time we had."
Oh! And...
"I did and I always will"...remember that one most!
(One last imagined hug and kiss would go here.)
"Farewell, friend."
-
Timtation~
The words you wrote here to Michael are beautiful. I hope that the days ahead will bring you peace and comfort.
We all love you.
~Cindy
-
Timtation~
The words you wrote here to Michael are beautiful. I hope that the days ahead will bring you peace and comfort.
We all love you.
~Cindy
Those are my exactly my thoughts, too. We'll be here for you if / when you need us, but I think you already know that. Take care, buddy.
David
-
Dear Tim,
Thanks for sharing those heartfelt and eloquent thoughts and words with us. I hope doing it helps to bring you some peace now and in the coming days.
A lot of what you have expressed could fit to so many relationships -- at least ones I have known. You covered a lot and covered it very, very well.
Thanks again. Sending you all best wishes, friend.
-
Tim,
Thank you for sharing your intimate farewell to Michael here, and for trusting us with it. I suspect that wasn’t easy to do, but then nothing worthwhile ever is. I see your words as a sign that you’re on the way to healing from this anguish, and for what it’s worth, I also believe in the core of my being that Michael “heard” them too.
Daniel
-
A lot of what you have expressed could fit to so many relationships -- at least ones I have known.
Yes, mine too.
:'(. Thanks...
Hope you feel better
-
Hey Tim,
Your words hold amazing power....and you have shared that power with us here...Thank You!
So know that I see you surrounded by a bright, warm, healing light....much like that of a candle...steady and sure...a source of comfort and care for you now, and in the days ahead.
Keep on "keeping on"....you are noticed, appreciated, and loved!!
Big Hugs 'n stuff....
Craig