When it rains in the desert

The end

It's been 11 years since I lost my Celia, i'm turning 36 this fall and i'm a little ashamed to admit that my hair has it's fair share of grey's.

I knew that it was going to take me a long time to get used to living without her and I won't say that I ever tried to "get over" her. Celia wasn't the kind of person you got over. God no. Celia Lockheart was a force to be reckoned with. Celia Lockheart was a tornado on my life.

Everything I do has a little piece of her in it. I see her in everything. At first it was a painful thing. It was hard to see roses without feeling a lump in my throat or to be out in the rain without wanting to cry but eventually I realized that things were going to carry on, that the world was still going to function as it does.

The world wasn't going to slow down because Celia was gone so instead of letting it sadden me, I remembered how happy I was when she gave me roses, I remembered that when we danced in the rain, it was the first time I found my home in her eyes, I remembered all the good she made me feel instead of the pain she left me with.

Don't let me fool you though, It's been 11 years and I only now have begun to feel like I might be okay.

I think that when you lose someone, the worst thing is the lack of hope. When you love someone, when you really love someone, the only thing that should matter to you is that they are safe and they are alive and they are happy. Even if you cannot have them. Even if they are with someone else or happier alone, they are alive, they are okay.

But when that vanishes, when they aren't walking the earth anymore, all that's left is a hole. And it's a hole that no one can fill, because they're never coming back. There is no chance that that void will ever get filled because the one person that can fill it, no longer exists. And there's nothing you can do about it.

I can't tell you how many times I wished I was where she was. There were times when I decided that today was the day. I was going to leave and i'd finally be happy. I wanted to walk directly into the ocean and never come back.

But the only thing that made me stay, the only thing that made me wake up in the morning was thinking about what would happen if I was reunited with her one day. If there was a heaven up there, or an after life or whatever, What would she say if I didn't live the life that she couldn't live? What would she say if I gave up?

The thing is guys, If heaven is a place or if the after life does exist, I'll meet her again, I'll see my Celia again and I've waited 11 years so what's does a little longer matter in the concept of forever?

I have to believe that heaven exists, I have to believe that there's an after life, because if I don't, I can't have any faith in life. There is no way that people have to go through the shit they go through, just to never wake up ever again. There is no way that all of this is for nothing. it has to be worth something.

I understand why Celia didn't do goodbyes. Goodbye is such a final word. If she'd said goodbye I would believe that I'd never see her again.

I still love Celia, I will always love Celia until the day I take my last breath, and she is still here, with me, in everything I do. But I need to let her go. 

I need to let her be at peace too, I need to accept the fact grief is unspent love, and I can't just keep it here. I have no where to put it anymore and Celia wanted me to be happy.

So, when I see a woman wearing a brown coat on the subway one Tuesday morning and remember the first time I saw Celia, I smile instead of feel a pang of guilt in my heart. Then when I see her purse sticking out of her pocket a little too far, I take it instead of walking away. When the train comes in, I slip a note into her pocket instead of getting on the train.

Then I walk away. I walk away and I wait for it to rain in the desert.