A week has passed since my darling died. The very worst week of my life and the worst is yet to come. This is not a poem, but more the way I feel and things I’m worried about. It’s for mine and Craig’s friends and family to help you help me somehow and vice versa. Today also marks seven years since Craig’s brother Chris died in the same way, so I’m so sorry this isn’t for you, lovely Chris. It is for Craig/Foetus/Gilesy. Please take a minute to read everything below, even though I know you all have busy lives.

 

Chell Da Silva Willis

 

 

 

 

Don’t judge me for outpourings of feelings on Facebook.

Even though I used to wonder why people did that and weren’t more more private in their grief.

I don’t anymore.

But I feel strange doing this because it’s not what I normally do online (and I’ve only been on Facebook for two months).

Know that it helps and comforts me in some way.

Know that I’m sorry for ever judging anyone who did this.

Don’t tell me to be strong.

It’s like I’m letting him down.

Don’t beat yourself up if you’ve already said this to me.

I know you mean well.

Don’t ever tell me I need to move on.

I’ll never move on, but time will inevitably pass without him.

Don’t tell me not to cry.

My tears give me temporary release.

Don’t tell me off if I appear rude or selfish.

Know I don’t mean it.

Don’t take it personally if I don’t want to see or speak to you.

Don’t use time as a measure of how well someone knew him.

It makes me feel our four years weren’t enough.

Don’t tell me to distract myself.

Hell accompanies me regardless.

Don’t talk to me and avoid his name.

Because it’ll be like he never was.

Ask how I am.

Don’t feel offended if I don’t ask how you are.

Don’t avoid me because you’re not sure what to say.

Don’t be offended if I avoid you.

Don’t think I’m suddenly okay if I seem to be having a good day.

Understand I’m sometimes numb.

Don’t tell me to get over it when you think enough time has passed.

Don’t think I don’t know you mean well.

Don’t compare your losses with mine unless it really was the same.

Don’t think I don’t care about your losses.

Know I’m sorry if I ever didn’t help you through yours.

But don’t compare how you felt about when your grandparent died.

Or your cat or your dog.

Or someone you knew.

Don’t tell me it’s the same.

Don’t tell me you know how I feel unless you really do.

Because some of you get to go home and sleep in the arms of your partner.

Don’t think I don’t know you’re saying it because you care.

Just tell me you will allow me to talk about him.

To cry about him and not stop me.

Allow me to feel despair about him and don’t cajole me.

Allow me to scream and wail about him.

Know I’m sorry if I bring the mood down.

Just tell me you’re there.

And will always be there.

Know I’m sorry if I ever wasn’t there for you.

Show me you care.

Know how thankful I am to anyone who takes the time to make a personal comment on a post or picture.

Know how grateful I am for your support with my fund.

Even though I feel somewhat ashamed that it’s not going to charity.

Know I’m thankful because it means I can stay in our beautiful home for longer.

Know I’m thankful for you coming to see me.

To show me you love me.

Know I know you love me even if you’ve not visited.

Know I love you back and I’m sorry it’s all about me.

Know I’m sorry for your pain of losing him, too.

Know I’m sorry I can’t be there for you.

Know how glad I am you loved him.

Know I never want you to stop talking about my precious Craig/Foetus/Gilesy.

Know how much it hurts when I see on social media that you’re getting on with your lives.

Know that I understand and Craig would want you to.

And so do I.

But it hurts.

Know how scared I am that the thoughts and kind wishes will stop and I’ll be alone.

Know how I am surrounded by so many loved ones but still feel so alone.

Know I’ve lost the only person I’d ever planned to spend the rest of my life with.

The best person I’d ever met.

Know that I know he wasn’t perfect.

Nor me.

But we were perfect for each other.

Know how we occasionally argued and it was mostly my fault.

Know how great we were at talking things over and resolving conflict together.

Know how real what we had was.

Know I am trying my very best to do him proud.

Know how my whole life’s present and future landscape has been deleted.

Know how I have no idea what my life looks like now.

Know how much pain I am in.

Know I’m still in shock.

Know how proud I am of him.

Know how much I miss him.

Every second. Every minute. Every hour. Every day.

Know that my life will never be the same.

Know how much I love him and always will.

 

 

 

Chell Da Silva Willis