I may die....

I cannot sleep. I miss his face. I miss that he called me "hedgehoggie" and told me that we were going to have a beautiful life....

Why did this happen? I have always tried to be so good...

And so, we enter day two. After yesterday I was seriously concerned that I was going to go twelve steps back after that lovely two steps forward.

This morning I woke again after a fitfull night of sleep. Rusty was snoring softly in the living room. That dog love's me, and he might just be the reason that I keep trying to smile. Last night, even though he hadn't eaten all day he wouldn't leave my side. He pushed his head under my hand so I'd pet him. He laid his head on my knee when I wouldn't pay him any mind. That little mutt wants his mommy laughing with him again.

And so, I made the coffee and entered the land of the living for one more day.

After a pot of coffee, and getting all of my stuff together I made it in to work. My work as a firefighter is a salvation. When you live with 8 other people 10 days a month you're going to laugh. You can't help it. My dad always used to say that when life got tough it was the simple act of physical work that could keep you going. The Firestation is living proof of that. There is comfort in coming in here in the morning when it's still dark to start the daily duties. I check out the BLS bag to make sure my medical supplies are all there. I turn on my airpack and put it on to make sure that my facemask fits and seals and that my alarm works. Then I check out the radios to make sure that the batteries are full. Finally, the engine gets a bath, and the act of making it shine helps me to get in the right place for the rest of the day.

And so it goes. Today is a blessing. Good heavy lift in the gym. Long lost friend called to say he was coming to visit, and tonight we just might catch a house fire.... It's all going my way, at least, today.

Welcome to my rebirth...

He was my heart. He was all my life, my friend, my partner and the one who made me realize that up to now I'd never had it right. Of course, as the existence of this blog proves, I didn't have it right this time either.

The madness of the initial incident is over for now. He's locked away. His mother is starting over and learning to live. I am standing here now looking back at 4 months that changed me completely and attempting to figure out what to do now. His recovery will occur behind bars, mine will occur on these pages over the next few months.

I am hoping to use these entries to document the thoughts I can't say out loud. I will write about the sleepless nights, the long runs, the brutal workouts and in the midst of it all, I hope some precious seconds of peace. I don't want to be a sad person. Should anyone read these words, you'll see fairly soon that I have humor and levity deeply rooted in me. That's where I am the most satisfied.

I said my good byes yesterday... It should start to get easier now, shouldn't it?

Last night was dreamless. Red wine helped to put me to sleep, though, so it wasn't particularly restful. When I woke it was with the memory of how he once took care of me when I had the flu. He was so afraid when I blacked out. He waited on my hand and foot. He held me, he carried me to the couch, and he made sure to bring me power aid zero, because he knew me SO well. I'd never have drunk the full calorie gatoraid! He loved me... But he's dead now.

I can't run slowly right now. I can't lift light right now. I flew through 4 miles today, and almost killed my running partner. I am tearing my body apart. Right now, the only way that I am convinced I can move forward is to hurt physically more than emotionally. One of them will drown out the other, I suppose.

So, if you feel like watching a Phoenix rise then you may like this blog. If not, feel free to pass by. Either way, I'll be writing...