May

Two months have gone by and Sarah’s still gone. This is, of course, not a surprise or a shock, just something to make note of. I wonder if I’ll feel the need to mark the day every month from now on or if I’ll eventually graduate to birthdays and holidays?

I have been having a pretty good week. Ever since I moved my papermaking “studio” into Sarah’s room downstairs, I’ve been feeling better. I feel closer to her down there, not to mention the fact that it just felt wrong having her room sitting down there, unfinished like some random store room. She was going to set it up this summer, we would have done all the legwork and whatnot spring break. We had already talked about furniture, and our landlord had said that she could paint down there if she wanted to (as long as she didn’t do anything that would be difficult or impossible to paint over). I was really looking forward to having her make that her own space, but she never got a chance to.

So, I’ve moved in down there myself. I still have her stuff down there, what little she had here. It’s like spending time in her presence, as weird as that may sound. Plus, I really love making paper. I’m reasonably sure that Sarah would approve.

I also realized something recently that helped me a great deal. I was feeling really bad about all the times I let Sarah down. I was feeling really sad that I would never get a chance to make it up to her, even though I had been already working to do that even before she died. But, I realized the other day that she wasn’t mad at me. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t. I never could forgive myself for letting James take her in the first place, back when we first got divorced. That was, is, and probably will always be my biggest regret. But, Sarah forgave me for that, and she understood why I did it.

Furthermore, if she is now in “a better place,” and has complete knowledge, then I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have suddenly started getting angry at me after she died. So, maybe what I’m really needing is a chance to make it up to myself, to prove that I’m not a bad person and that I really never wanted to hurt her, and that I’m capable of doing better than that. I think that Sarah already believed that. I just never convinced myself.

Ah, well. Life sucks, as they say, and then you die, or someone else dies and then life sucks. Whatever.