It's funny how we sometimes have to do things we really don't want to. Well, it's not "haha" funny. Let me give an example. Today I had to see a dentist about a filling. I had the filling done about 6 months ago and it's been bothering me since. The dentist I visited today is one I've spent some time with over the past 6 months; I trust her (as much as you can trust a dentist). We had previously agreed to remove the filling and give the tooth a temporary filling along with something to make it "relax" a bit.
I got up this morning and I did not want to go. This actually started yesterday and I called my dad who calmed me down and assured me everything would be okay. All I had to do was get to the dentist's and she would take good care of the rest.
So on my way there, I'm biking hard (a little late as always but not terribly so) and my body is filled with adrenaline. I feel it in my breathing and the way my heart is beating. I've got sweaty palms and a dry mouth. Physically all alarm systems are going off. My body is telling me I should not be doing this, not now, probably never.
But rationally I know I need to do it. I made the decision long before I got on the bike, most likely months ago, if I'm being honest. That filling had to be replaced.
Walking up the stairs I have to remind myself to breathe. My body is acting as if I'm walking towards a wolf's den, mentally the rational part of my brain is in control; there are no wolves.
Of course, everything turns out to be perfectly fine. The dentist is great at her job and the assistant is there for me and I feel so supported through the whole thing. I now have a temporary filling that tastes like cloves (I like it) and hopefully, things will improve from here. Even if it doesn't, the filling I didn't like is gone. That's a huge weight off my shoulder and it's silly but true. The temporary filling can easily stay for a month so there's no rush to get back for a more permanent solution.
A sureal experience
- 587 are the number of days since his husband disappeared. The events of that night still feel like a dream; one minute he's fast asleep, the next a big flash of light wakes him up and his husband is screaming while the dogs bark like their life depended on it. Everything is chaos for a few seconds and then everything is quiet. Too quiet.
The other side of the bed is still warm, it still smells like him but he is not there. He's nowhere in the house. His phone is gone too and the line has been disconnected. He doesn't know what to do aside from panic so that's what he does. For years his husband has been his rock, the only thing that seemed to calm him down in moments like this. Now he isn't there to do that. In a desperate attempt to stop the hyperventilation, he drags out the weighted blanket from the deep of the closet and lies on the bed with the weight pushing him down. The dogs are uneasy too and they join him.
After a few minutes like this – arms along his sides and the weight keeping him somewhat grounded – he can think clearly enough to make a plan. He has to call the police. Even if they don't believe the events that just happened, his husband will very likely be missing for at least a day or two. That will create questions. He has to be honest from the beginning. And that's what he does.
The police didn't believe him, of course, he doesn't blame them. But after doing everything they can (with no luck) to prove he has murdered his husband, they file it as an open disappearance case. They have a theory his husband left somehow but they have no proof.
Then there's only surviving.
Every day and every night is longing for the person he once shared his life with. He searches for answers in all the places he can think of but finds nothing.
587 days later there are still no answers. Some days it's like his husband slips out of his brain. Like their whole relationship is fog on an early summer morning that evaporates as the sun pushed past the horizon. He keeps their wedding photo close by. It's something tangible to hold onto when his memories threaten to fade into nothing and his whole marriage feels like a faint dream.