Human beings are complicated. I was crying walking my dog in a gloomy evening yesterday, and suddenly started to smile to strangers who were smiling at the dog. I always tell people that I am a pragmatic person and i will be doing fine. This is not something I can get over with. I can't describe how sensitive I have become in the past months. Nevertheless, I do feel that I can be quite blunt to emotions at times. I often took things too seriously and looked for the "true nature" of things, maybe due to the academic training of mine. It often takes more time and a bit of aloneness for me to realize that things are not the same any more. I do not know it is good or bad, but I think it carried me through the toughest period somehow.
The days and nights with A were full of genuine joys, despite some few challenges and frustrations we both had. I genuinely thought I was the luckiest person on earth to have him by my side. Even so in the toughest periods when A was still barely conscious. In fact, I never had any ideas how relationships should work and I was definitely terrible at communications. I felt so extremely lucky that things just went well and smooth with A.
During the journey I learned how to talk to an adult with respect, with care and with love. I guess there is no formula for how love and relationship should be. Accept who you are and accept who your love is, and just be honest about your feelings. The key is honesty, at least to me. I rarely give my 100% trust to anyone. From very early on, I learnt myself not to set expectations on anyone, even the closest. Too many memories, and it took a lot of things to form a man as he is now. I think I have a bit Mental mysophobia. I am a bit skeptical of human nature in general for the weakness we all have. I should have thought through this and not to be judgmental deep inside. But it is just me. And sadly I never dared to tell those friends who lost my trust in the end. True trust is about giving the greatest ever compliment to anyone for one's moral code, judgements, thoughts and behaviors. My true trust has never been given to anyone, other than my mom. But A got it almost immediately after we met in that little farm house by Gimravegen. And I felt so extremely lucky that he earned it so easily. Things suddenly became themselves and we became ourselves in full. The world seemed to have changed to me and everything started to look more glittering.
A might not agree, but I do consider myself quite hard to be likable. I am not good at telling others how I feel, nor am I good at visiting my friends or having deep conversations. I tend to swallow anything good or bad myself. A lack of sharing attitude is not good to make deep bounds with people. It must be difficult for others to know where I am, how I function, which state I am in, and what I am struggling with. I realized it, but it is hard to change myself. I keep getting reminded one thing A told me once or twice, that I do not cry with him or at anything, that he avoided crying with me for that reason. It hurt me deeply to hear that. I could not manipulate my emotions or just try to get on the same page with A all the time. I do appreciate the sensitive side of him. The subtle small things that make him A. Whenever he showed his vulnerability, got my heart only closer to him.
It was true. The few times I remembered that I cried were very clear. Despite the meaningless cries I had at a very young age, the first time was when I was sitting beside with my grandma after her funeral. I was old enough to realize the meaning of it. I was totally alone with her, as I was trying really hard to grab the memories and things that truly meant something to me. Something to remind me of her, her comb, eventually. The second time was after the awakening separation from a short period "relationship" for the first time with a man in the summer of Beijing in 2014. It was not even a real relationship, but rather a brief encounter that lasted longer than it should. We were almost together everyday in that 3 month period. It was not crazy by all means. But it somehow gave me a lot of comfort and security. It normalized my life somehow, if that is the right description for it. The cries the man gave me when I had to leave for Norway was out of nowhere. He told me that he was going to marry a woman that year and start a family. That was the moment I realized what was really important to me. I cried so hard on the plane back to Norway, while watching a very stupid romantic film. It was a rather strange but warm feeling. The third time was in the ICU, when A got his first seizure in March 2022. As strong as A was, it was hard to acknowledge that the seizure could have actually knocked him out like that, and even harder to see that he could barely move or rise up for a cup of water. He kept saying that he had to go back to the office, and the work would pile up or not be done as he wanted. It was heart broken. And the situation has only gone steadily worse for him from there. And I lost count on how emotional I have become.
I have built myself into a pragmatic and optimistic person. There was never a moment that I felt totally desperate, despite that A has become weaker and weaker. I always managed to find something to cheer myself up and cultivated a team spirit together with A, which helped a lot for both of us. I guess I was blowing bubbles that was so beautiful not to believe in. I knew that nobody could possibly help us, but we had each other and that simply meant everything to me and hopefully the same to him. I did not lose hope. My side-track researches on possible cures gave me some faith and hope. I knew they should not make a big difference, but what else could we do.
A was a very organized person. He has played the whole thing out in his mind and on paper, especially how his projects shall be followed up, how his loved ones would be taken care of, and how the funeral programs should be. He was convinced that it was good to know his expiration date. I knew he meant it, and it was the pain and life quality near the end that worried him a bit. He was right. The illness did not unfold beautifully. After a few seizure accidents, A got totally paralyzed and the confusion and head pressure had changed him into someone I could barely recognize. Change of medicines helped with his emotion controls. Despite the unpractical disability, he was still A whenever he managed to wake himself up and became just as charming and lovely as he always has been. The smiles he put on his face and the kisses meant so much to me. I felt that nothing could ever break me when I was with him. I sincerely hoped that I played a similar role for him.
There was not much a need to comfort him most of the time. He has thought everything through. But no man is built out of steel. As emotional as A was, he struggled immensely when he became vulnerable for the unrealized future that he planned, especially a kid that was never been born to call him dad. It was extremely hard to calm someone that has all the arguments on his side. There was not even a need to say the comforting words anyone can think of. All I could do was to live the life as normally as it shall be and to treat him just as him. In the end, it was the words he wrote himself that calmed him down always. "Vit at jeg anså meg selv som verdens heldigste, jeg opplevde mer enn jeg kunne drømme om." I agreed with him. I sometimes imagined how it would be if I were in his situation, and I would not say that I would be satisfied with my life, and I would have so many regrets.
I joked with him for his retirement plan, his thousands of DVDs, endless pictures he took, tons of cartoons, boxes of gadgets, etc. He was afraid to be lonely and had tried many things to fill the time and the time yet to come. He was good at it. After almost 9 years together, there are still new things he owned that I had never seen or played with. It became overwhelming for a minimalistic me. Thinking about the years we had together, there was never a rush for me to learn everything about him, all his friends, xenu.net, and HEF. The man with little mystery but full of mysteries. I thought I had all the time, all the summers to kill. We all took it wrong. It was not until a few days ago when I started to sort his things and pictures and songs, did I realize the missing opportunities to explore the world together, and learn the man just a bit deeper. It was so painful to accept that I will never have the chance to discuss anything with him, to plan a party, to go to boardgame evenings, and to be amazed by him again and again. I miss him, so deeply. I can feel my heart is coming out and some pieces are taken away.
It had been a great trip, as I try to tell myself every time I am reminded of A. I should not be too greedy. I was extremely lucky to know a man like A, what's more, fell deeply in love with him. I always had a terrible perception on myself for not worthy of anything good, something I convicted myself to believe deeply inside. I felt pity for myself truly, a poor guy that was rarely cherished or appreciated.
It was A that convinced me that I did deserve someone truly nice, someone that loved me unconditionally. I don't know what I have done to deserve this. Love is a dream, and even the nicest dream could come true. I felt so previlidged and so proud and that made me wanting to share it with everyone. Sadly, I never got to share my love story with my mom. It was not a easy decision but it will complicate her life so much. That would not be fair for her. I naively thought that one day that this issue will resolve itself somehow, and my love story will be shared with her with joy. I felt so regretful that I did not manage to tell her. And it hurt me utterly, especially when I refused A's proposal for this reason. "My mom had to know it", as the voice in my head told me always. Why would I not do anything about it?! A had a marriage license and married over 90 couples. It was A's biggest dream to get married. The one thing he wanted the most, was failed by my procrastination and lack of planning. A never complained. I think I will never forgive me for that. It does not matter anymore, and this hurts me even more.
Life is a bitch. No one can have a perfect plan and an excellent execution. It is what it is, and then we all die.
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