when people can't take your grief anymore

This sadness is like an infinite blanket exposed to an unpredictable breeze, raising and descending as leaving me helplessly exposed to the randomness of its patterns. 

One minute I can be fine, the next I am fighting the tears or punching a wall to release the overwhelming pain and anger of this loss.

He is never coming back....ever.

My friend Gisi suddenly decided to transition out of sympathy-mode and return to her usual: "I don't understand what you see in him" - mode. 

As if I'm not allowed to grief for him anymore, for he was a flawed man anyway.

I know, she just wants me to be happy and free of this seemingly unnecessary suffering but she fails to understand that my well-being was intricately tied to his presence in my life.

In fact, at times it feels as if I am experiencing withdrawal symptoms. He was my drug, I admit.  

It's hard to grief for someone who was such a complex and difficult person. It's hard because some people on the outside didn't see the life, energy, passion, and love I received from this controversial man. They only remember the troubles I shared, and that is partially my fault. [On occasion, it was all his own performance but, point is, you don't know a relationship unless you're in it.]

Yes, he was struggling with all kinds of garbage but who am I to judge? We are who we are because of how we were made and how life has treated us. What matters is that we remain self-reflective and strive for change where we feel it's needed. J did that constantly. And he struggled more than the average person because of his challenges (bi-polar tendencies) and he wasn't always quick to realize what was bad for him (and/or the people who loved him). I don't know if he would have ever made it... but, I know, he truly tried in whichever way HE was capable of....and he came a long way.

Sometimes I feel guilty. Often, I feel guilty.

I wonder, if he would still be alive had I let him be a little bit more. I had turned to complete zero-tolerance in terms of use and maybe he needed a bit more understanding and patience still instead of the constant guilt trip. I should have let him get there by himself. I should have let him be a little. Have even more patience.

I think of his daughter often and how she will never be able to be embraced by her father again. She is six years old and she adored her Daddy. They were separated by many states but they talked via Skype regularly. Sometimes she still tries to call him. ... So do I, I have to admit. I call his cellphone just to hear his voice telling me he is currently not available.