It's simply unbelievable but it has been 2 years since Matt's passing. So much has changed. So much has happened. My life is completely unrecognizable from what it was two years ago. I made it through the day okay and it was generally a good weekend although it always seemed a bit off. Friday night, I hung out in my hood with an old friend and some new and probably had a few too many drinks to cope with the kick off of the weekend. Saturday I slept in and finally woke to wander around OB with Lila for coffee and a bagel by the water. Later, I biked to PB to meet friends at the beach and enjoy a cocktail overlooking the Pacific. Matt would have loved this, he was really one that got me on two wheels biking around the city. I pedaled home to rest Saturday night with some bad reality TV and made it another late morning. A friend came over in the afternoon as we had planned to get tattoos to commemorate the day. I wanted an infinity symbol with Matt's/our initials. So off I went to take in some permeant pain on my foot to hopefully immortalize my love for him.
Like I said, I felt off all weekend and was just tired. The overwhelming feeling was guilt about being happy. I know, I know, he would want me to be happy but it's still a feeling that I have to go through. Mostly I think, I was just frustrated from feeling this way. I mean, I worked so hard to get here, to get to this place of peace. It didn't come to me, I did everything I was supposed to do and more. And here I am happy but feeling guilty for it. How could I be when all this happened? When he isn't here and he didn't have this chance to enjoy life. Then the irritation for being made to feel guilty of my hard work. So anyways, it's a complicated sense of emotions. And by Sunday night with the time change throwing me further off, I was ready for bed and ready for a new week of hope in my little beach bungalow.
biking into the sunset
me before the pain and the final product
namaste
Melissa
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