ForeverCaHa
Heartbroken Welshman
- Feb 16, 2025
- 360
A morning venting post? Makes a change from writing in the early hours!
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I've spent what feels like the whole morning looking for my partner's burial site. I think I've found the cemetery, but I'm too nervous to call the church. Like I've said before, not knowing means that tiny, inexplicable part of my brain can continue deluding itself into believing he's actually still alive. I do have other major concerns regarding the burial, but I can't talk about those with anyone (adding to the mystery with that one). If said concerns are correct, though, my "I can't forgive myself" would turn into "I don't deserve forgiveness". I need to trust his family to do the right thing, but, frankly, I don't.
Sometime today or next week I'll make the phone call and ask for information. I've gone through all the funeral directors in that area and there's no funeral notice or obituary. Since it was immediate family only I suppose there wouldn't be any need for one. I would like some portion of my ashes to be scattered on his grave, so it's important that I locate it.
This morning I found two polaroids from my cousin's wedding last year. Him and me, smiling in each other's arms. My cousin also had a gimmicky telephone thing where guests could record a message. I know we left one, but he only speaks briefly. I've forgotten his voice... I have a short video on my Instagram of us two, but I don't even recognise his voice. I can't picture his face without looking at photos either, but that's too painful. I guess it's my brain's way of protecting itself. Delete the memories, delete the grief. If only it were that easy.
I really should try to sleep, but laying down in silence just means picturing his body in our flat. I try my hardest, but every now and again I'll get sudden flashes of the scene.
We're almost in the final two weeks, then I can put those images to rest, along with myself.
---
I've spent what feels like the whole morning looking for my partner's burial site. I think I've found the cemetery, but I'm too nervous to call the church. Like I've said before, not knowing means that tiny, inexplicable part of my brain can continue deluding itself into believing he's actually still alive. I do have other major concerns regarding the burial, but I can't talk about those with anyone (adding to the mystery with that one). If said concerns are correct, though, my "I can't forgive myself" would turn into "I don't deserve forgiveness". I need to trust his family to do the right thing, but, frankly, I don't.
Sometime today or next week I'll make the phone call and ask for information. I've gone through all the funeral directors in that area and there's no funeral notice or obituary. Since it was immediate family only I suppose there wouldn't be any need for one. I would like some portion of my ashes to be scattered on his grave, so it's important that I locate it.
This morning I found two polaroids from my cousin's wedding last year. Him and me, smiling in each other's arms. My cousin also had a gimmicky telephone thing where guests could record a message. I know we left one, but he only speaks briefly. I've forgotten his voice... I have a short video on my Instagram of us two, but I don't even recognise his voice. I can't picture his face without looking at photos either, but that's too painful. I guess it's my brain's way of protecting itself. Delete the memories, delete the grief. If only it were that easy.
I really should try to sleep, but laying down in silence just means picturing his body in our flat. I try my hardest, but every now and again I'll get sudden flashes of the scene.
We're almost in the final two weeks, then I can put those images to rest, along with myself.
