The girl – COB – from this entry wrote me recently:
Oh. Hi. Just popping round to say that I love you, you’re a most treasured friend. [My boyfriend] and I were talking about when you helped us and how much you’ve always been such an influential part of our lives even when we do not see you.
She’s a treasured friend of mine as well.
While COB and I never dated, every woman that I did date and still keep in touch with, except two, donated to Alison and me when they heard she got sick. That says a lot, I think.
When I was dating a ton, there were a certain set of rules I followed, which were essentially my rules on life in general.
But alla them can really be subsumed into one:
My brother introduced me to a service ages ago called Spamgourmet. Essentially, it allows you to create a limitless amount of email addresses for websites to avoid spam.
It was created by a fella named Josh and was completely ad and payment free. If you donated, great, if not, you could still use 100% of the functionality.
If you click that link above, you’ll see almost exactly what I saw decades ago because it was never updated. It just worked. Why fix something that’s perfect?
I used it a lot; my brother used it voraciously.
He told me recently that Josh was diagnosed with GBM, the same cancer that took Alison. He just passed away.
Before Alison, I never even heard of this fucking thing. And now I see/hear it everywhere.
So, this rando guy out there in the world, created something that thousands of people use and enjoy and he asked for nothing in return. He made my brother’s life, and mine, a slight bit better. It wasn’t life changing, but it was nice. It was kind.
Kindness is really everything.
Anywho, I wanted tell you that today would have been Alison and my ninth anniversary. As I write those words, I’m filled with equal parts love and sadness.
Alison gave me so much. I can honestly say that no person has been a more positive influence on my life than she.
She left me a far, far, far better human being than when she met me. I will forever be grateful to her for that and my son.
To Alison, I say simply, thank you. For letting me be your fella. It was and remains an honor.
And don’t worry about the boy. I take care of him and he takes care of me.
You’re both my most treasured things.
For the past two years, I’ve looked at my anniversary with dread.
I’d pangs of suicidal thoughts that I worried would overtake me that day and I’d do something rash and stupid. Mouse was there in some fashion each year to make sure I didn’t.
We’d not really seen or spoken to each other since her birthday but she came by again this weekend.
I took her out to eat and then she took me out for a drink in a bar hidden in a department store. Think she just wanted to make sure I was ok.
Good souls are innately valuable treasure because they’re kind for no reason.
You should keep them around at all cost – if at all possible – because the world is shit and you need as many good and kind people as possible to help you weather it all.
Thank goodness for the good souls.
Mouse left on Sunday mainly because she believed me when I said that I don’t feel any thoughts of self-harm, at all. Just the normal level of sadness one might expect.
That’s good because I have no plans to leave. I need more time with him.
You see, if I left now, he’d be worse off and I can’t break my rules. If I could, I’d never leave him alone.
Him: Will you be stuck?
Me: No. (shaking head) We’re a team.
Him: We’re a team!
Location: in my head, 2011 when we were so very, very happy and hopeful
Mood: fucking gutted
Music: I will never not think about you