Grief is hitting me like a truck

Grief is hitting me like a truck. Or maybe like a tsunami — because a simple wave I could ride, or swim through, or sail over. 

It woke me up early this morning, maybe around 3 or 4 am. I’m not sure, I didn’t look at the time, I just let myself feel. I let the emotions wash over me, the memories pour over me. That’s what they needed, maybe what I needed, too. 

The memories of the relationship with my European queer ex-lover, from our first interaction almost two years ago in the spring of 2022 to this past summer of 2023. 

Yesterday I rehoused Frederick den Farn, the fern that my European queer ex-lover left (with) me this past summer of 2023 when they returned to Europe. I tend to have quite a black thumb so it’s almost a miracle that this plant survived until now, over five months. But finally, this past week, I felt I needed to let go of it. I needed this plant to be out of my sight — as are the two books that my European queer ex-lover gave me and the mug they painted for me. I’ve been feeling the need for a more tangible ritual, getting rid of these objects. Somehow, just being out of my sight in a box in the garage isn’t sufficient anymore — it’s insufficient for my pain and insufficient for the need of leaving behind & starting over that I feel now. So I’ll have to figure out what to do with those objects. In the meantime, though, I could get rid of the fern that was almost constantly in my sight in the living-room: so I decided to rehouse it and yesterday I gave it to another queer person with whom I think there’s a budding friendship. And who I know is willing to hold space not only for my fern but also to listen to my story and feelings re. my European queer ex-lover. 

I think rehousing Frederick den Farn yesterday spurred the renewed grief tsunami that woke me up, full of memories washing over me early this morning. Or maybe rehousing Frederick den Farn was just the last, tangible reason for the renewed tsunami of grief. 

With the start of the New Year and getting closer to my double anniversary coming up on January 26th, I have been feeling a mix of nostalgia and also wariness around what I am feeling now and, especially, will be feeling in the upcoming weeks & months. Because as the weeks and months roll on, as dates come & go again, I will be reminded of dates, events, and emotions from the same period one & two years ago. Both two years ago and last year, the first six months of the year and, especially as the winter slowly turned into the spring and then spring blossomed, I too blossomed and slowly bloomed, opening up to what the world, my new home in Colorado and then my new body, brought to me. And one of the things that came to me was the European queer visiting researcher who eventually became my friend and then lover. 

Both in 2022 and in 2023 the first six months of the year brought me a succession of openings, of (good) surprises, of new starts, of love and other wonderful things (despite some difficulties, too). What will 2024 bring me? I can’t imagine any beautiful surprises heading my way now or in the next few months: all I can see for now is those dates, those recurrences and anniversaries coming around as reminders of the beauties of last year and/or the previous year, reminding me ever more starkly of what I’ve lost.