M is for Morbid

So, I'm sitting here surfing, as I usually do on my days off, looking for good writing, hoping to be inspired. Sultan has been out since early this morning. He had to drop Leah off at school and then, as far as I knew, he was coming back to spend the day with me.

Well, he's not back yet, and I have Six Feet Under inspired anxiety. I'm imagining all manner of horrible thing. A car accident. A sudden embolism. A heart attack. I'm imagining getting a phone call from the hospital, and having to plan his funeral, and hating the Christmas season from now on because of this one Christmas when my soul mate, my Karmic brownie, my joy, was taken from me.

If I weren't fully in the grip of an axiety attack, I'd be laughing at myself. Instead, I am just breathing. Deeply. One, two, three. I am ears perked for the sound of the car turning in, his footsteps on the front porch, his "Hi, baby" as he comes in the door.

I've always been hyperaware that we all die. Something about being abused in childhood sets you up for this kind of morbid fascination with and awareness of your own mortality. I am mortal. Those I love are mortal. This knowing has led to moments when I suspend disbelief in an effort to prepare for the worst. I imagine myself going through whatever motions the situation requires. Calling his parents and giving them the news. Choosing his cremation urn.

I'm aware that when I suspend disbelief and imagine my Darklin' dead, I am imagining an eventual reality. The question is not 'if' it happens but 'when'. I am hoping that the Universe will be kind, and I will die before he does - a selfish wish, but my heart's most cherished. I want to fall asleep in his arms and not wake up, and yes, it sucks that I'd be leaving him behind to deal with the grief of having lost me, but I'll tell you a secret - he's stronger than me. He can handle it. He'd carry on. As for me, if I woke up one morning and found him dead beside me, I'd probably have a ginormous cosmic tantrum that would result in my joining him in the great beyond.

I do not want to live this life without him.

And I know how fucked up and dependent that sounds, but I don't care.

***

The phone just rang. It was my sweetie calling to let me know he's on his way home. He stayed at Leah's school for a Christmas Assembly, and was at the office gathering together the tax return papers. He'll be home soon.

Now, I'm laughing at myself, and you all can laugh right along with me, okay? But I won't forget - I refuse to forget - that we are all given only so many days.

I'm determined to live it like I know it.

Feith