Spoken/UnspokenReal if composite phone conversation, repeated again and again:
Lovely caring friend/family member: Oh, Dorcasina, I am so, so sorry for your loss. Is there anything I can do?
Dorcasina (in complete sincerity and gratitude for having such amazing and brave friend/family member): Not really. It means so much that you called. Thank you.
This is what I don't say, can't say, won't say:
Isn't that the bitch of this whole thing? That I have so many wonderful people who want so much to help, and yet there's not a fucking thing any one of them can do to make this better? My whole world has shifted off its axis, and no amount of love and concern does a goddam bit of good. I'm less than half a person now, and that makes me dangerous to myself and everyone else. I have nothing to lose. I'm a body without a soul.
I can't decide which is worse: succumbing to total wretchedness, where I cry until I give myself the dry heaves and feel the need to peel off my skin in sheets just to get the pain to stop? Or the moments where his loss is utterly unreal, when I forget and am driving along noticing a lovely tree, or a child playing, and then remember that the person who was my other half will never again catch my eye or remind me that we are thinking the same thing at the same time? I see "normal" people doing "normal" things and I want to shout at them, to hurt them. How can their lives go on? How can they do those everyday things? For that matter, how can I?