It’s Matt again and I have not been on LoveBytes as a blogger in several months… seven months to be precise. The lovely Dani knows why but here is the reason. On February 6th, 2016 I lost my best friend, partner, lover and husband of nineteen years to an aggressive form of lymphoma of the brain. Tim first and only symptom manifested itself on Thanksgiving night with a massive seizure. From that point on it was downhill. I watched a vibrant, funny, snarky man wither in front of me. Each moment, each day, he lost more of himself and I had was front row to it. Friends and family understood but how can you really. They go home at the end of the day and I had to experience his deterioration in excruciating detail. The scars are just starting to heal for me. The memories are still strong and acrid in the back of my throat.
So, I stopped writing. I was in the middle of my last WIP when he became ill and it got shelved. It took nearly five months to finish one chapter and close out the book. I tried, God knows I tried, multiple times to finish Boone’s story. But how can someone write a happy ending, when their own happy ending was cut so cruelly short. I opened my word doc at least three dozen times before I could finish that last damn chapter and I think I know what helped. I learned to laugh again. I didn’t think I would ever laugh again.
One day I put in my ‘Are You Being Served’ DVD series and found myself giggling at Mrs. Slocumbe’s pussy, ‘I’m free’ lisped by Mr. Humphries and ‘Ere’ from Ms. Brahms and I smiled again. Not just on the inside but the outside as well. I picked up my laptop, reread what I had written and damn well gave my character his happy ending… all the while crying for my own lost one. Writing happiness when grieving is like bicycling with a blinders on. You can do it, but you’ll most likely get hurt in the end. It did hurt to write Boone’s happily ever after and yet it gave me hope. Maybe one day, I’ll be happy again. Until then, my characters will give me joy.
To my Tim, you were my world and it’s a little bleaker without you. Love your pooterpuff.