But Too Well

XL : Acceptance

FOR THE NEXT month I think about it all, about what was on the TV, about what Shauna said, about moving on.

I talk to Natalia about it, I go out with Shauna, I start to consider (I said consider) the possibility of forgiving myself, the possibility of letting go of the crushing, crippling, consuming guilt. Because all I know is that it's not doing me any good, or anyone else.

I would love to spend time with my family again, where we're not all still reeling.

I would like to ease the perpetual knot in my stomach, the ache in my heart, the tiredness in my bones.

I think it can happen.

And soon I realize that it's been eight months since Caleb died, and I've heard people say that after eight month things are supposed to fade, but that's just crap.

Yes, everything is duller, easier, but never easy. It will never truly fade.

•§•

THERE IS ONE thing, however, that isn't even close to being resolved. It fills my thoughts during the day, keeps me awake at night. It's a kind of nagging, and it needs an answer that I can't seem to find on my own.

And the bed is still so incredibly empty, and so I toss and turn and the what ifs and what abouts don't stop, and I am so restless and awake because I suddenly cannot sleep alone in this bed. My eyes won't close and I try to squeeze them shut but there is just one face, one kind of question, that fills my every thought and breath and I need to know.

Ever since I heard them say those things on the news, I haven't stopped thinking about it, him.

And I know that everything is changing because instead of feeling angry and guilty and ashamed I'm just curious, bright, warm.

I sit up in my bed, and the last couple of days I've been able to think of Caleb without that painful squeeze in my chest, and, okay, maybe that eight months thing wasn't total BS. I think of Caleb, and there is a golden glow and yeah it was a tragedy but there is simply nothing anyone can do. I get it now.

Acceptance.

In this moment, I realize, I have found it.

And eventually, I do sleep, and there is a kind of peace in it.

•§•

THE NEXT NIGHT, and the night after that, and the next one are all filled with my restlessness.

Except it's not hurt or pain in missing Caleb—I can think of him without bursting into tears, I can remember his smile and begin to smile back.

It's that other thing I mentioned that keeps bothering me, and it's good that it's a Friday night because my thoughts won't leave me alone and I can't sleep. I need to know.

I'm not even sure exactly what kind of answers I'm looking for, but I need something, and I. Can't. Sleep.

I hear the clock ticking, my head is filled with warm mush, and it's hot in my apartment, and even with the cool sheets against my skin it's impossible.

There is only one thing I can think of, and it makes me even warmer.

Bad idea.

But that's only a small, weak voice. The rest of me is alight, waiting. I should feel so wrong for even thinking it, but I don't. It seems so necessary, now.