Page 32 of Make It Without You

My knees almost buckle as I finish reading my vows. Swiftly, I take my paper and walk back down the two steps to the pew. My mom wraps my hand in hers and Brandon slings his arm over my shoulder.

I detach myself from the space that I’m in as the funeral draws to a close. Only family and close friends are allowed at the burial site. As much as I wish I wasn’t going, I need it.

Dressed in black we walk like a treacherous wave down the aisle and to the waiting cars. The sniffles from the mourners in the church as this is their final goodbye to the man who lit up a room.

My parents flank me in the hearse as I stare blankly ahead. The world could be on fire and I wouldn’t even know. My dad makes sure I get out of the car and holds me tightly to his side as we walk to the site. I blank out as the casket that carries James’s physical body inside of it is brought to the center.

His physical body.

Because in my mind he’s still here. In my mind, he’s preparing for his ten o’clock staff meeting that he has every Thursday. But my mind plays tricks on me.

I fiddle with my engagement ring. The one I haven’t taken off since he put it there. The ring I thought I would wear for the rest of my life.

More words are spoken, but I still don’t hear any of them. I’m lost in the grief of losing the man who was set to be my husband. I’m lost in the grief of knowing parents just lost their son. I’m lost in the grief of knowing four brothers just lost the glue.

When it comes time, we head up, one by one, and scoop up a handful of dirt as his casket is lowered.

“I love you,” I say to myself as I cup a handful of the cold, thick dirt from the pile off to the side. “I love you. I love you. Now I have to make it without you.”

February 2018

“I promise I’ll love you forever.”

“Forever’s a long time you know?”

“I’m okay with forever as long as you are.”

I wake up from my dream gasping for breath, drenched in sweat, and wondering why this dream felt so real. It’s been a while since I’ve dreamed about James. Every dream I have of the two of us is more vivid than the last. Like I just experienced it.

It’s been six months since he died.

Six long months without the love of my life.

I keep replaying that day over and over in my head. Thinking that if either of us did something different he would still be here. That we would be married. And I wouldn’t be in this purgatory-like state wondering when this hell-ish nightmare would be over.

That night as I walked back into our apartment, with fresh sheets on the bed that we had just changed and the old ones waiting to be swapped into the dryer, was it then that my heart disintegrated. The reality of those events caught up to me as I collapsed onto the floor and let the pain of new grief consume me as I cried out with body-shaking sobs and wails as my new reality hit me like a thousand bricks.

How had it been hours ago that I was sitting at the dining table grading papers?

How had it been hours ago that he and I were making love before going off to help our friends?

How had it been hours ago that I kissed my fiancé for the last time and not know it?

The day of his funeral was the second hardest day of my life without him. It was the day I was officially saying goodbye to the love of my life. To the boy who was my first everything. My first boyfriend, my first kiss, my first time, and my first love.

Not long after James’ funeral, I retreated to my parent’s house in New York for a while. While our relationship wasn’t always on solid footing, they understood my need to retreat to aplace he and I had never stepped foot in and were supportive of my need to withdraw from life.

During my stay there, I managed to ask them if they would look for someplace else for me to live. We may not have seen eye-to-eye while I was growing up, but they stepped up for me when I needed it the most. My parents were the parents I so desperately needed in those moments when I could barely string a sentence, let alone a thought together. They hired movers and contacted the leasing office at the old place, explaining my situation. Thankfully the complex was understanding and let the lease break early.

I was told that grieving didn’t have a timetable. That you could be on your way to healing when all of a sudden it hits you. The tears you thought were dried are renewed as you think to contact him for the first time in months, those tears fall with no intention of stopping.

I mourned the would-be wedding and honeymoon that quickly arrived on the calendar. I mourned our would-be happily married life. I mourned for a life I could have had.

I left my would-be life in Philadelphia. That’s when a new grieving period happened. And now I’m somewhere new. Trying to heal without my other half.

Emily

2019

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