Five years ago on July 27th, 2006, Christopher, the love of my life, passed away from brain cancer.
We met November 21st, 2003 while I worked in Victoria's Secret. He came in and bought over $500 worth of merchandise, got approved for a VS card so that I could get the commission, all the while telling me that he was buying the items for his girlfriend, who was around my size, we bought everything that would fit me that he thought was sexy. He asked for a card to write a note, stuck it in the back on top of the tissue paper, went outside to take a call and never came back.
When I opened the card he'd written:
You seem like the type of girl to like big romantic gestures, so here's mine
If I seem interesting and you'd like to go on a date with me give me a call (#)
If not, enjoy the merchandise and the commission
I thought he was crazy. I thought he was sweet. I thought he was romantic. I thought he was fucking gorgeous (he and Danny Gokey would be IDENTICAL twins). I thought he was fucking insane.
So I called him.
We went on our first date, and back then I was a "first date sex" type of girl. Christopher was a Southern gentleman, he asked for permission for everything. "Can I hold your hand?" "Can I kiss you?" "Can I call you tomorrow?"
He was amazing. We dated for three years. He was a musician, I was a singer/songwriter. I was an artist, he was a sexy subject. I was a nympho (still am) and he made me wait. I was a writer and he thought my writing was amazing. He needed someone to take care of him and I love taking care of people. I was bossy and controlling and he made me feel small and protected. He proposed to me on December 25th, 2005. After having one of the most romantic, deepest, soul-stirring loving relationships and love stories I'd ever experienced, he made it more perfect by proposing on Christmas Day and telling me that I could have the wedding of my dreams. Our wedding date was set for December 24th, 2006.
He died on July 27th.
It took me YEARS to get over him. To not cry every time I heard "What Hurts the Most" by Rascal Flatts, which is what they played at the funeral. To be able to shop in Victoria's Secret again. To be able to get through the day without drinking or without needing to get high or kill myself and join him. Last year July 27th came and went and all I felt was a small bit of pain. This year, I didn't even realize that July 27th had come and gone.
Until about twenty minutes ago.
I had just finished checking out some posts of Thorny's when my cell phone rang. It was Christopher's mother. Usually I call her every year and we sit on the phone and cry together, or I let her remember Christopher. I let her tell me about how I was the first black girl he ever dated and about how before he met me he'd never even met "a gay" but that when I came along he started hanging out with them and how they were a little worried that he would be gay but then they learned to accept "the gays" for who they were and how she was so glad that Christopher met me and fell in love with me and how I made them a family again. Those phone calls helped me get through the agonizing soul-crushing loss of the very person who I felt made my heart beat in the first place.
I was pregnant when Christopher died, I miscarried a month later, and with every phone call I was reminded of not only Christopher but of our baby that I lost as well. It took me a while to realize that those phone calls were doing more harm than good for me. They weren't helping me to heal, they were keeping me paralyzed in emotional agony.
I didn't call this year. She called me though, twenty minutes ago. She ranted and raged at me. Yelled at me, called me horrible, filthy names and most shockingly told me that I never loved Christopher and that I probably killed our baby on purpose.
Then she called me the "N" word.
My happy bubble had been crushed, because while I understand that grief causes people to say and do ugly things, I think that sometimes it makes people say what they've been feeling all along and I think in her case she was finally being honest.
Even with her completely shitting on my day and man, making me relive one of the hardest moments of my life, all I kept thinking was "Christopher, do you even realize how much I loved you? Because if I didn't love you, there's no way I would put up with your bitch of a mother right now."
But more than that it makes me want all of my friends, everyone I know to find someone that they can love, will love with their whole selves, with their souls. Because while the lost of Christopher was so heart-stoppingly hard, I wouldn't trade the fact that I was able to love him for anything else in the world. And I know I'm usually very happy and bouncy and silly but damn, she hurt me and I needed to just kind of hurt for a moment.