John's Memorial

I went to John's memorial today. I cried I was a getting dressed. I cried as I put on make-up. I cried as I took off make-up, knowing there was no way I could handle make-up today. I passed a wedding on the way there, and I cried under my sunglasses. And when I got there, I cried and cried and cried. John would never have recognized the gal who has the small talk on the surface and the simmering passions underneath. I was clearly the only person there who was mourning.

Frankly, I think it was fucked up. Everyone, except a few, were people from the company he worked at, which went out of business about a year ago, so most people were mostly just wanting to catch up with each other. Sorry that John died, but more 'wasn't he a great guy?' Even the slide retrospective was of the company, not of John.

One of the women brought a single-tail whip that John had given her, and people were playing with it and everyone was assuring everyone that of course, John wasn't into S&M and making fun of people who were. And I just held my tongue.

There were a lot of other places that people just didn't know John at all. They knew a persona. Which I find odd, because he was so proud with me about not having a persona. I somehow thought that extended to the rest of the world. My stories just didn't fit in with the John they knew.

Everyone was so upbeat! I don't get upbeat memorials. You would think if there was one place that public displays of emotion were OK it would be a memorial. But I guess that's outre. I was outre. And I was drunk. I haven't been that drunk since the night John and I had a big fight, but 3 drinks will totally take me out. I seemed out of place--a downer at that memorial.

I went in the bathroom because I could tell I was going to lose it (again) and I bawled my eyes out. I cried SO hard. I was a downer. And this lovely woman, Ana, just held me and held me and held me. For 10 minutes maybe (maybe more) and I sobbed. And she kept saying "It's fine. We're here." It was a willingness to be with me in my grief, to just hold me and bear witness. It was really touching.

One of John's friends talked with me. He was gay and said he was shocked at how much he and John had in common, in the dating and the connection sides. And he said that John had referred to me as his "soul mate, but then there was a struggle." And his friend said: "And that was John's issue--he wasn't able to deal with a struggle."

But the fact that he called me a soul mate to a friend of his means a lot. This wasn't all in my head. I told the friend that John and I had never had sex, and he said something like 'well, sex came easily to John.' Staying through difficulty did not.

And John did come back to me, after difficulties. Maybe he recognized a pattern and thought if we held off on sex, he could change the pattern. I don't know.

I met an ex-girlfriend of John's and there were clear parallels between us. They dated for 4 months in 2005. It was intense. John kind of disappeared on her too (although they worked at the same company, so it wasn't the same). She hasn't dated anyone seriously since. I was under the impression that the women before me took financial advantage of John, but John never mentioned her, perhaps because she didn't fit into that narrative.

I met his sister, and she seemed to look past me, but his sister's partner was lovely and she took my hand and looked at the ring and touched it on my hand and smiled and was lovely.

I left fairly early because after his sister left it was once again all the company and I didn't fit in.

I don't have anything profound to say. I refuse to look on John's death as a positive. It just plain old sucks. If it makes clear things that were already clear, that will come. But not today. Today I grieve.