I woke up today realizing I feel more alone now than I ever have in my life.
And it’s not just that I’m living alone for the first time – no parents, no child: totally alone in this quiet house. It’s a different kind of alone than just being alone physically. This is a kind of alone that I didn’t know existed before I shared my life with Rick…
With Rick, I felt totally safe. I let him into that most private place inside me and he did the same. We knew each other’s hopes and dreams, our flaws and foibles and failings and insecurities. I know it sounds cliche – but sometimes I think he knew me better than I knew myself. This sense of oneness was something I didn’t realized I had missed in all the years before him. I hadn’t known it was possible to join with someone like that, to form that most intimate bond. I trusted him with my heart and soul. I felt like he was a part of me. He was with me when we were miles apart.
That’s why, now that he’s gone, I feel more alone than I ever have in my life. Now that the bond has been severed by death, I am back to being a single individual, but this time it’s different, worse than it was before. Because this time I’ve experienced something I didn’t know existed, the ability to become so close to someone that they form a part of you. Before Rick, I had no idea what I was missing, that there even was a possibility of that type of intimacy. Before Rick, I was ignorant of the joy of being that in love, the safety net of that kind of love, the confidence that – despite anything I could possibly do – he would continue to love me, and I him. Before Rick, I never experienced the serenity that comes from knowing that I’m not alone in this world….