Alan, my companion of six years, passed away a month ago. I could not grieve, did not have closure until last night. I was able to begin to grieve before that, when he came to me in a dream and kissed me and it felt so real.
I wonder if I am free to love again or free to not love again. I never loved Alan as much as I should have. He was difficult, but I took him for granted, treated him in ways I do not know why he tolerated, and yet made him seem like the bad guy to my girlfriends. No, he was far from perfect, snobby, high strung, a clean freak where it came to food, which is good I suppose, an ultra conservative, being Scottish, preferred the BBC, and his favorite TV show was Valley Kiss Angel.
My mother once said straight to his face, "I don't like Republicans," but he won her over because 1) he was handsome, 2) he was polite and 3) they shared the same favorite television shows, except news of course. Alan read the Drudge Report of course and listened to Rush Limbaugh. This is one election year we did not get to fight.
In 2008 we were in Columbia, South Carolina on family business and he had a t-shirt that said "Obama keep the change." I made him cover up the keep the part so it only said Obama and change.
He took me to the Commission for the Blind, where I soon became a student for five months. He gave me a cell phone so he could call me, and we saw each other on weekends when I was delivered home. I was enjoying my friends in Columbia and shopping with them, going to yoga. Alan was still married technically, although he had been separated for years and had kids of his own in Germany. He offered to buy me a ring, but at that point I did not want one.
I admit we broke up quite a few times, and then I would have another boyfriend, usually a recycled one, and when it blew up, Alan was always there to get drunk as a skunk with.
I saw a tarot card reader, friend of a friend, a guy from North Carolina. He had me pull my own card for Alan. It was the lover card. He did a spread, and told me nothing was bad in it, except an intensity to be aware of, and that was the spark that led to our fights or made them more intense. I was the jealous one, even though Alan was the one who had a right to be jealous.
He did the things I wanted him to do, like renting an apartment on the ocean, but the divorce which he was working on never fully went through. Perhaps it was good for the wife and kids that he was still married when he died.
I feel bad for his daughters. I feel bad for me in a way. I thought I was OK with this, but really I am not. I did so much wrong. I realize it was a two way street and we kept drifting together and apart. Near the end he came over a lot, and I gave him Reiki, because the pain was very severe. He had pancreatic cancer. When the pain medication kicked in, he was OK.
He would sleep over sometimes on the futon, because we were not technically together, but I would lie down with him if he invited me to, and he was comforting me. I was crying. When he gathered up the strength he took us to pick up Thai take out.
So many fun and funny things happened over the years. Once his neighbor from upstairs invited us up for drinks. Alan said, "don't talk about politics or anything personal, and only have one drink." We had already had a few at my son's gig. I said "OK."
However I ended up saying, "Are you guys married? Alan is married too, but not to me," and "Alan is a right wing Republican." Also, when he went downstairs for something, I accepted another drink. I ended up throwing up when we went back down.
Another thing I loved about Alan was that he loved the shirts I bought him, and he wore them. I gave him a green one last Christmas, a button down. He looked so nice in it and his black jeans and black sports jacket on Christmas day when he came to my mother's for Christmas dinner. I was going to complain that he was late, when he announced his father had just died. He was OK with it, though.
I miss Alan. I really do. If I had it to do over, I would have made a true commitment.
Maybe I did in my own way. I do not know. He was not perfect, I know, and him being married still bothered me, but still so many things I said and did, I would take back if I could.
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