A Letter To My Forever Love

Freddy, honey? Are you there? I know you can hear me…

I am so exhausted from the heartache of losing you my love.  Even after all this time I still cannot accept nor believe that you are gone and that in my lifetime on earth I will never see you, touch you, hear you call: “aww Zell!?” when you need me to bring you something – most often “a nice cuppa tea...”

I will never hold your hand, stroke your back, kiss your gorgeous mouth or drape a leg casually over yours as we lie there in the waking hours of the morning.

No more Friday movie nights together – cuddled up and content in your arms. The Matrix Trilogy, John Carter, Van Helsing – all your favourites. Me fighting sleep and dosing off against your strong chest – so content. I used to say if I were a cat I would purr – remember?

On the nights you worked late on a project at your computer – a mere 3 meters away from me, I would smile a sleepy smile and sigh in contentment when you would finally settle down next to me to sleep.  You were so cautious not to wake me, but I was awake – never quite able to settle into deep sleep without you beside me.  You would give me a final butterfly kiss on my shoulder before draping your arm over me, your hand engulfing mine.  I would raise your hand to my lips and kiss it. My favourite time of day: falling asleep like that – so happy, so content and oh so in love and loved completely.

No more lazy late Sunday mornings and bike rides along the beach promenade. Milkshakes, brunch and cappuccinos at our favourite beach café.  Sharing the Sunday newspaper at the café – chats with the owner and head waiter.  Watching the people go by.  I have tried on a few occasions since you left to keep up this tradition in your honour: swapping my usual chocolate milkshake for your favourite lime. Having your milkshake for you… Without fail it brings tears as I sit there alone watching other couples. My heart utterly breaking at the memory of those special rituals.  The owner always comes over and the head waiter is ever chatty.  They offer condolences, encouragement and hugs and go out of their way to make me comfortable, but YOU are not there.  In spirit, but not THERE.  I’m not sure how to handle this. It hurts if I do the things we did together – it hurts if I don’t. I’m still not sure which hurts less, so I guess I will do it again soon.  I don’t know what else to do because nothing is without pain anyway.

No more shopping together on our way home at the grocery store for afternoon tea-time treats and supplies …

No more Sunday afternoon naps and me listening to your breathing, smiling to myself – so unbelievably happy just to have you next to me.  Wanting to pinch myself, unable to believe that I could be so happy.  Now I cannot believe I have lost it all! It is a long terrible nightmare from which I cannot awake.

No more holding hands in church on Sunday evening… I do not know what to do with my hands in church now: I fiddle all the time, twisting your ring around and around.  Desperate to hold a hand that is not there.  I hold the engraved heart, cross and your piece of jewellery on a chain around my neck – searching for some comfort in your trinkets.  Searching all the time for you, just to feel you tangibly as I feel you in my heart.

It is like I cannot find balance without you at my side.  Something always feels off, something is always missing: YOU!!!

No more last “cuppa tea” before bedtime.  Your tea was such an obsession my funny man.  Sometimes that last “cuppa tea” you made moments before bedtime would go cold on the bedside table next to you as you drifted off to sleep.

How I miss the “clink-clink” of the teaspoon in the cup.  I gave up trying to count how many cups of tea you had in a day.  I miss seeing you stand at the kitchen counter “clinking” away at the cup. My sweet naked butler.

I miss breakfast out on the balcony…looking out over the sea in the cool morning air, cups of tea on the wall – always the tea!

I miss dinner together every night. Oh, how I miss the satisfaction of seeing you enjoy your meal. Your quirky way while washing the dishes: with your forehead braced against the cupboard above the sink.

When all my chores were done and I crawled into bed: how I miss seeing you there in your chair at your desk.  I would fight sleep late at night while you were working… and inevitably lose the battle and drift off to fitful sleep.  Unable to settle into deep sleep without you at my side, I would wake up after short naps and see you sitting there. I would get up to go to the bathroom and make you another “nice cuppa tea” and return to bed and wait for you to join me. 

As was your ritual if you had to work especially late, you would come over and lovingly tuck me in, placing the stuffed toy butterfly you bought me in my arms, close to my chest.  You would lean over and kiss me and tell me to sleep.  That precious stuffed toy sits on my lap now as I write this to you…

But true restful sleep only came with you next to me.  Only then was my day complete – only then was I complete.

I miss the empty tubs of Cape Fruit yoghurt stacked in the cupboard below the sink: evidence of your favourite late night snack when you studied so late into the night in front of your computer. The eraser shavings on the floor when you did your drawings.  I miss EVERYTHING about our life together: in the minutest detail.

Now you are gone and everything is gone with you…and there is just emptiness. It is so quiet at night: no “clink-clink” of the teaspoon in the cup or the sound of the kettle boiling for the umpteenth time and clicking off.  I lie there every night and wait for sleep to come.  But it does not: sleep and contentment does not come because you are not coming to tuck me in – I involuntarily glance over at your desk in the dim candlelight – you are not there - you are not coming to bed at all. Not tonight, not ever again!  

I kiss the cold unresponsive glass of your photograph and whisper goodnight – although I know there is no night where you are.  I surround myself with pillows, even on the hottest of nights, in a desperate attempt to mimic you next to me. Your favourite cotton shirt on your pillow next to me.  I lie there and I grip my stuffed toy to my chest and the tears roll down my face…there will be no sinking of the mattress as you climb into bed next to me. There will be no final butterfly kiss on my shoulder – no “I love you’s” exchanged…

When I rise in the morning to dress for work there will be no appreciative looks or compliments for how nice I look.  I won’t boil eggs for you in the morning or bake fresh scones…

I struggle to get out of the door and shut it, because you should be there to hug me and kiss me goodbye.  Sometimes you were in the bath or shaving and I would get foam all over my face.

As I got to the bottom of the stairs you would step out on the balcony and call out to me: “love you, see you later for coffee!” or “I’ll call you just now…!”  I would look up and call back “ok, love you honey!”

No more calls during the day, no more text messages from you that ask: “what you up to honey?” – a mere 2 hours after my day started.

No text messages to remind me to buy cheese because the mouse ate the cheese (Freddy mouse :-))

No text messages to say “I’m downstairs – do you have time for coffee”.  I would quickly touch up my lipstick and fix my hair. Heart pounding as if on a first date.
I remember that one time when I got to the coffee shop downstairs and you rushed over, picked me up and swirled me around, kissing me before putting me down: in plain sight of the public – unashamed. I was so proud!!! It was so very, very special Freddy.  I told you that then, and I tell you again now, because I want you to know how much all those gestures meant to me and how special and loved you made me feel.

Now as the hours drag on and the work day draws to an end, I hover and I delay – taking my time packing up while everyone else rushes home.  There is no reason or motivation to rush home: you will not be there to welcome me and hug me until it feels as if my ribs will crack.

There will be no meeting you at the gym for a workout every other afternoon after work.  You made sure you followed my car closely to be sure I am ok. You were my shadow, my protector, always keeping an eye on me.

No excited anticipation as I quickly shop for supplies for your favourite dinners as a special treat.  Just like I did on that fateful afternoon on 24 April 2014 – the packets and chocolate hearts dropped to the floor – my life abruptly changed and ended for all intents and purposes with yours…

No reward at the end of the day.  I am emptied out, incomplete without you, utterly unfulfilled.  I don’t know what to do or who I am without you anymore.  Time drags and seems endless.  The wait to be reunited with you so agonizingly slow and painful.

I know you are with me in spirit Freddy.  The way we were together in life it could be no other way.  I know you watch over me as you always did.  I sense you want more than anything for my pain to be stilled as you whisper into my heart.  I know even in separation our love continues and is everlasting.  I desperately want to honour that.  I want to be able to hold my head high and be strong for you as I hold you in my heart until I can hold you again in heaven…  But I fail miserably in my resolve.  It hurts so much to be without you in this life.  How do I ever get used to living without you? My Freddy, my love, my life!   Love always, ZellFred forever!!