Consider this my official S.O.S. Which for the longest time I actually thought it meant, Shit Oh Shit.
Sometimes I think that’s much more appropriate of a meaning. Don’t you agree?
Deep breaths. I have been trying to remind Self all day to breathe. I was hoping that the more long deep breathing I did, the braver I’d become in having to say what I’m about to say.
Apparently long deep breathing, while a tonic for the entire body, has yet to reach tonic status for my emotional state and thus become brave. But. I’m still going to hope one day it will.
Guru is not well. He hasn’t been for a few months now, I’ve known that. But … it’s Guru! Guru always pulls through. Guru always makes it out the other side.
There is no more store. There will be no more walks with B, for treats and water. No more talks. And his advice, that advice, what am I to do about that?
I was under no illusion that Guru was going to be here for years to come. But did I think I had a good year left? Without question.
When I saw him the day I left for Paris, he promised me … he swore, he would be here waiting when I returned. He couldn’t wait to hear my stories, and he’d tell me more of his stories. Of Italy and life and success and love and loss. And guns. More shooting.
His heart is failing him. He is weak, too weak some days to move. He is slipping away from me. I feel it. The clock is ticking.
I have found myself falling rapidly into decline, of the mental sort, since I returned to this news. I have also come to realize, I need him. I cannot fathom my world without him in it, and now that I have to face this … it’s just too soon.
I’m not ready. I don’t want it to be this way. I can’t wrap my mind around it. Life without Guru is something I’ve never been able to contemplate, because it’s always just been too unbearable a thought.
So I am torn. Part of me {fine, fine — the main part of me} wants to cling to this sadness and wallow in the pity party. The other part of me {that would be Higher Self}, is having no part in any of it and is telling me to get my head out of my ass, get a f-ing grip and that I still need to be happy.
Be Happy. Remember that picture I took. Writing from Paris. All high on my happy horse. Gawd. How incredibly annoying I was.
Part of me wants to hold on, when Higher Self says, there isn’t, nor has there ever been, anything to hold on to … Nothing is forever. Things are always in motion, constantly changing.
But how to handle this change? I can’t even drive by the store without bursting in to tears. Will I ever be able to walk by there again? I’m not so sure.
I don’t know how to do life without Guru. Yet I know I need to let him go. I cannot be this selfish. IF I really believe life continues on, then can’t there be the possibility that Guru will still be with me — even perhaps more than he is able to now?
I’ll be GD, People. Here we are again … me having to put faith into my faith. When nothing feels right and I am having a hard time making it through the day … just getting by with the minimal … I am still left having to trust.
And if I think, trust who, trust what? I can’t even answer those questions. Because I don’t know anything, except that regardless of this f-ing emotional cyclone that’s hit me, I’m still supposed to trust.
However the F I’m supposed to do that?! I suppose maybe that’s it … I’m not “supposed to do” anything … I must simply … trust.
Totally get how all those troubled writers and artists of the past ended things a bit abruptly. This life thing … so painstakingly beautiful can really just rip the living soul out of us.
Yet. There remains hope. Somehow hope does Spring eternal. I feel it in me … buried under a weighty despair … it’s there.
Guru would be royally pissed if he knew even for five minutes I was crying and terribly upset. He’d yell at me. Probably something like, you need to eat some pasta, have a piece of candy, take a nap and when you wake up I swear to God, you stay POSITIVE AND HAPPY.
For you, Guru, I will try.
And for me, send good vibes. I need all the juju I can get right now.