This is hard. Being away from him.
It has been five months, on the 3rd of October.
I drove on Sunday night to get back to the apartment. It was time I got back to something normal in the hope of getting our life squared once again. It has been five months, and I had to/wanted to get back to work. It was time. Friends and family kept reassuring me that I need some “me” time. It seems selfish to take time out for myself. But I see the rationale and usefulness behind stepping out of the hospital and into the normal world; where time, reality and priority seem untouched and unfazed. Everything still goes on. The world moved on while we stayed in our personal room of agony.
For 156 days, I have stayed by his side. I could see him, touch him, know that he is there. Fighting to come back. I didn’t want to leave his side. No one should have to wake up and find themselves alone. I was with Jitish immediately after I was able to leave my hospital room. Therapy was distraction and time away from him. He was in coma at the time, but I was slightly consoled by the fact that he was still there. I kept dreaming that Jitish and I would walk out of the hospital together. I hated the day I was discharged, because it meant I had to leave the hospital without him. That night, on the 20th, I cried. A lot.
I hate being alone. Since the time of the accident, I have had my sister or my friends or my parents around me. All the time. I was comforted. I didn’t realize how much of the shock had been muted because I had my family with me. I wasn’t alone. While my dad was with Jitish, My mum was with me all along, helping me eat or take a shower or be by my side when I tried to sleep. The day they left, I cried. A lot. As soon as they sat in the taxi, to head to the airport, the waterworks started. I called my sister and cried. Walking down the street towards RIC, I cried. In that moment, I truly felt Alone.
This is my first week back to the apartment and going to work. I am trying to establish a routine. Focus on work, when I am at work. It is harsh when you come back and realize that life went on. Every Friday, I would keep checking my watch to wait for 5pm, so I would go home and see him and we would have our evening tea together. I don’t know what to run home to now.
The ripe summer green trees lost color. Summer is over. Our houseplants collapsed with neglect. Our home packed up in boxes, with all our memories stashed away. I hate being back without him. Hate it. I have tasks – to unpack, unwrap, clean up. To make the house look more like home, so Jitish feels comforted when he finally comes home. To make it safer.
I don’t want to be alone a minute; and let my mind wander and think. The only way I am coping with being alone is talking with my sister and parents for hours on the phone. I inevitably keep asking them, “I don’t know what to do. What do I do?“. My sister advised me to, “Pray & Move Forward (not move on)“.
Frozen Dinner. On the couch. Lights stay on. Hating it. Sleep.