A Storm Of A Different Kind

So, here I sit inside Jason's home. Alone. Not alone. Next to the remains of the man I love. It still boggles my mind to think that this beautiful man is now a pile of ash in this gorgeous midnight blue urn. I actually kissed it this evening when I got here. Is that weird? It felt so natural...and almost like he was kissing me back.

Everything is packed up and ready for transport tomorrow. I'm extremely nervous, apprehcnsive, and anxious about the task at hand. I just want to get to the airport, and get on the plane. I think once that part is over...the rest will be easy.

The speech I wrote - that I referenced in my first post... I tried practicing it tonight for the second time. The first time, I never made it all the way through. This time...just barely. I was just telling a friend, though...that I know when the time comes, I'll have the strength to pull it off...and it'll be fabulous. But right now...it just hurts. It hurts a lot.

My friend suggested I take something personal of Jason's with me on this trip...so that way I still have a piece of him with me when I come home after the burial. I thought that was a fantastic idea. Tonight, I settled on his iPod. Jason carried this thing with him everywhere, so why not on his final flight. I'd never taken the time to look through all of the music on here, but he and I generally had the same taste in music. Tonight, though...when I plugged it in to charge, something caught my eye. There's a playlist on there called "Stuart". My heart skipped a beat when I saw this. I clicked on it, and up popped about 50 songs...all of them love songs. And, thanks to iTunes, I can see when they were all last played. May 14, 2009. Two weeks exactly before his death...and the day I returned from San Antonio. I'd like to imagine that he listened to these songs because he missed me...and now, as we take our final trip together, I will listen to it because I miss him.

I thought I did pretty good getting through his death and the days that followed. I felt like I held it together and stayed strong through all of that. Now, not so much. I feel weak. I feel drained. I feel like I'm going to break at any moment. This weekend scares me. It scares me to have a final goodbye. It scares me see his remains being put into the ground. It scares me that I'll have to fly home without him. It scares me that in a short amount of time, we'll have to sell this beautiful house and everything inside it. It'll be like Jason's dying all over again...and I'm not sure I'll be able to watch that happen. But, I will. I have to.

I don't want to go to bed tonight. I keep thinking, if I stay up...Friday won't come...and I won't have to let go. But I do have to let go. I need to let go.