I've waited here for you forever (part XII)

"I come in peace. I didn't bring artillery. But I'm pleading with you, with tears in my eyes: if you [f**k] with me I'll kill you all."
~~Marine General James Mattis

(Continued from part XI.)

Another.

Sun, Oct 28, 2012, 7:11 PM

because there's just...no point anymore, is there?

I got turned down for disability. The medical doctor turned in three potential jobs I could do--all of them required lifting, standing, and/or kneeling to do the work, and one of them was seasonal only. The judge also didn't consider any medical findings earlier than 2004.

So...it's a no. I'm not sure if I'm going to challenge for a second appeal. I'm so tired of fighting.

And I don't know where you are. Where you went. And I'm tired of that too.

I still love you, but thinking of you depresses the hell out of me. I ran out of any resource I can think of last night, trying to track down [country]'s obituaries. I literally don't know what to do at this point.

[Em]

Another.

After several months of waiting, I've now had my first appointment with a rehab physician--he took an exhaustive medical history, poked in just about every painful area I have, and walked me out with a steroid injection in my left knee, a prescription for Voltaren (which my insurance likely won't cover), and a new type of non-opiate painkiller (which my insurance likely will). I'm to come in towards the end of December for a follow-up, and in the first or second week of January for a nerve induction test on my wrists.

I don't know why I'm telling you this. You're not there. You're dead or amnesiac or uncaring or lobotomized, but you're not THERE.

I don't know if I'll write again.

I may still try to call, but depending on what I find out, when and if I'm able to, I think that's the end of it for me. I'm trying to put myself together again enough to move on. There is a large part of my heart that will always be yours, and right now, I resent that more than a little, but I'll have to cope with that too.

[Em]

Another.

Thu, Mar 21, 2013, 6:21 PM

[given name],

Still miss you. Still don't know why you left. Still waiting for enough free in the budget to buy an international calling card.

I'll make the one call, and depending what I hear, I think that's well and truly the end of all things.

Still love you. But that just makes everything hurt worse.

I hope you're happy, wherever you are. I truly do. I hope you are blissfully happy, or at least content, and not in a coma, or dead, or simply perfidiously ignoring everything I send your way. In any world, with me or not, I'd rather you be alive and happy. And if it has to be without me, then I still know you're alive and happy, and for me, that would be enough.

It's the not knowing, the months of not knowing, that's shredding my heart.

Not yours (though I still want to be); not collared (and that's acid on the soul); and not part of your life anymore,

[Em]

At least one more to come.

(Coded to Daughtry's "Over You".)