I emailed Maggie my story for VU way back in January, a week before I met the loveliness that she is in person. When she emailed me the last week in May to tell me it was my turn to go up next week, I told her the significance of June 3. She said we'd put it up then. It wasn't planned like that, although I imagine many people thought it was. Instead it was one of those serendipitous moments where life feels right, in the midst of so much wrong, telling me that it was time to tell my story.
I am so glad I did. The support that I received in the form of comments--over SEVENTY of them--just blows me away. It was like seventy hugs, seventy bouquets of flowers, seventy people telling me that it was okay. That it wasn't my fault. That? Is priceless. THANK YOU.
Still, I couldn't say it out loud. It was on the tip of my tongue multiple times to say to Shane, "remember..." but I couldn't. And when he found my cork and asked what was nine years ago, I couldn't say it to him. I just said, "Oh. Don't worry about it." And then I seethed. Not because he didn't remember, but because I was JEALOUS that he didn't remember. Jealous that it was just another day to him. Jealous that I will likely never be able to feel anything other than panic and sadness when I flip the calendar to June. I want to tell him. I want to remind him what it means to me, to us, but I can't. Instead, I just kissed him on the cheek and said, "Thank you for being so good to me." I think that's enough for now.