Life just goes on when you die; makes it seem so pointless. The Man of Steele is gone. I feel like we got the short end of the stick. We’re the ones still stuck here on this shit hole. Time stopped when Steele was sick. Now it’s started back again, and everyone wants to get on with their lives. They want me to get on with my life. And the sad thing is, we all will. I’m so happy for Steele. But now I’m so mad with life.
I want to get back to my life; problem is, it doesn’t feel like my life without Steele. I didn’t have any plans that didn’t involve him. I didn’t have any dreams that didn’t involve him. I didn’t have any vexations that didn’t involve him. I didn’t have any stories to tell that weren’t intended for him. Now I’m being forced to live this other life and I’ll never know how the story ends in the one I planned. There’s no one to beg, bribe or bully to get my life back the way I wanted. That dream is gone. My Man of Steele is gone. I have no idea what my new life will look like. I don’t even know how to begin it.
The other day I was thinking if the angels on the other side were wondering all along, like me, whether Steele was coming and going. Every time I thought he was going I was sad and when I thought he was coming I was happy. I wonder if on the other end, they were excited when he was going, like they were about to meet a new friend, and when he was staying they were disappointed, like someone snatched a new gift from them. Well the waiting game is over and this morning they got to meet their new best friend.
Two days before he died, he slept for about 20 hours straight. A deep, deep sleep that you couldn’t wake him out of, literally. He was so peaceful. It was like he was catching up on 32 years of not enough sleep. The doctor had warned he would get more and more tired and would likely lose his ability to speak. The morning afterwards, the nurses told me he woke up in the night and was responsive. So driving to the hospital I was so excited. The day before terrified me: thinking about all the questions I wanted to ask him, and feeling so stupid for waiting. I mean I had contemplated this before, so we talked about some things over the period of hospitalization, but when I couldn’t wake him up and talk to him, I realized there was so much more to be said. So I came ready with a list. When I arrived, I realized that responsive didn’t mean talking.
Steele and I visited a jewelry store for the first time together in January. We were waiting for a meeting in Montego Bay and decided to walk around the plaza. There were other stores in the plaza, but that day I felt this urge to try on wedding rings with him. I tried on rings and took pictures in them. He was so cool about it. I thought he was going to be freaking out. I thought he would have wanted to wait outside, but he came in with me and was quite engaged; talking to the sales reps. Anyhow, we left to go to the meeting and never spoke about it again. Steele and I weren’t ready to get married. I think we are the only two people in the world that would believe that. I don’t think either of us really understood why. But I always wanted to know what the hell was going through his head in the store that day. Well, I’ll never know. I can’t help feeling like our story ended before it even really began.
Thankfully that morning he could still hear, even though he couldn’t speak; so I was able to read to him all the beautiful notes his friends sent him. It rained all day. That was Thursday, and Steele loves rain. He mostly rested. He died early Friday morning. I’m so happy for him. I’m so proud to have shared my life with him. His friends are so blessed for having known him and they love him so much. He had a beautiful death.
When I had to leave the hospital this morning I kept saying: I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I have to leave. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. The nurse asked me, what I’m sorry for. I didn’t know, but I just kept screaming it. I want to tell him that I’m so sorry my life has to go on without him. I would never have planned it this way, but someone else had a greater plan and ain’t life a b*%ch.