Fucking February Fucking 8th Fucking 20 Fucking 21

 Well, what I actually wound up writing in Facebook was "Fucking February".  And I cut out that part about "a date which will live in infamy."  Silly to compare my own broken heart to a national disaster.  

So not last night but the night before....

no, 24 robbers did not come knocking at my door.  I awakened just before 2:00 am to the overhead light being switched on and Will saying, "it's okay - you can stay in bed".  He was half dressed.  I looked at the bedside clock and noted it was 1:48.  

I got up and said, "Sweetheart, are you all right?"   He nodded.  Then I said, "It's just 2 in the morning.  Are you sure you want to get up now?"

He was surprised and decided to go back to bed.

Yesterday morning he got up when I was doing stuff downstairs.  I heard him walking around.  I went upstairs and he asked where I'd been and I explained.  Then I poured him a bowl of Special K with whole milk and put it on the table with his pills and banana.  I went outside to do yard-work and he went back to bed.   A little while later I went in to see him.  He wasn't asleep.  He asked if there was a dog in the room.  I asked him the dog's name and he couldn't remember either of them.  Then I asked him who I was.

He didn't know.  Then he guessed I was "Jennifer 2" (Jen is his twice a week dinner-maker, carer).  Later in the day, during two other questionings (one by the nurse, one by me) he said that I "lived in the house with him," that my name was KaKay, and, late in the evening, guessed that we were "good friends."

So I announced it on Facebook and then went for a long, retail therapy walk downtown.  For awhile I was nauseous and my knees felt weak.  When I got downtown I bought stuff -- a fancy hoody, some earrings, some new underwear for Will, etc etc.  Spending enough to help me feel the money as a balance to the existential despair.

by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

When I got home I found that my good friend Jim had sent me a zoom in my absence, asking if I wanted to talk face to face.  He's a good guy.  Many of my friends posted to me on Facebook where I asked for prayers from those who are good prayers and postcards from my "beloved atheist and agnostic friends."

But what I really, really, need is someone to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay.  Oh, yeah, I know what you'll say.  "If you're such a Christian now, what about that Jesus guy?"  Well, he may be incarnate somewhere still, but here in Bend his incarnation is only in the bodies of other humans.  I need to be held by someone who knows me.

As my sweetheart no longer does.