PJ came to stay with me for awhile. I know, you’re rolling your eyes at me, but, I had to give her a chance. She was ready to get herself off of drugs and away from the abusive boyfriend that cheated and lied and hurt her more times than she could count. In order to do that, she wanted a totally fresh start, including a new environment. West Virginia and the comforts of her big sister seemed logical, especially since I have a huge two bedroom apartment that Leo and I are wandering around in aimlessly these days. I figured I could use the company and the distraction of having her around. I was so proud of her. She drove all the way here and that is no small feat. Well, she lasted three days and then she wanted to go home. I gave her all the cash I’d saved for my trip to Michigan, which amounted to about $200 and off she went.
While she was in West Virginia with me, I wanted her to feel comfortable. So, a friend and I made her a room of her own. I didn’t have the money to really furnish it, but I put a desk and the small loveseat in the second bedroom and she seemed content with that. When she left, I was annoyed, but left it. Now it’s been months and I want my extra room back. Stubbornly, I decided to move the loveseat back into the living room on my own. It got stuck in the door way and I had to throw my entire body against it numerous times in order to dislodge it. When it dislodged, I ended up flying through the doorway with the loveseat, crashing head first into the ground. As I was climbing back to my feet and throwing around a few choice four letter words, I saw it.
There, sitting on the carpet, was your missing phone. The one I’d looked for after you died. I had assumed it was gone, lost in the chaos. I hadn’t even thought about it in months and there it sat, staring at me. I have to say, my first thought was “Hot stuff! That’s at least $300 trade in value toward the cell phone bill I can barely pay each month!”. As I went to reset the factory settings, I paused, wondering if there were pictures I wanted on the phone before I deleted everything. In that brief moment of nostalgia, I opened the phone’s lock and started swiping through the gallery. There were silly selfies, pictures of your food, etc… and then I came across one of the surgical pictures of your hand. Immediately, the smell of the infection came flooding back into my head and I threw up all over myself, suddenly and violently.
I don’t remember ever being shocked or upset or overwhelmed with nausea when you were here and we were dealing with your infection. It was just what life presented us with and I dealt with it, just like you did. Seeing that picture did something to my mind that I didn’t know was possible. It entirely took over my senses and filled my nasal passages with the sickeningly sweet smell of rotting flesh and that entire two years flashed through my mind at warp speed. All of the moments that I didn’t scream or cry or lose control overwhelmed me and I sobbed hysterically for hours. I couldn’t stop, spending hours sitting on the bathroom floor, dry heaving over the toilet and staring at the picture of your hand torn open and oozing on the phone in front of me. I couldn’t get the smell out of my nose. I couldn’t look away from the image.
I’ve looked at the pictures from the infection numerous times since that day when I encountered your missing cell phone and they have never had the same effect. I’m not sure what happened that day, but, for a moment, the entire experience was all of the things it never was when we were going through it. I was allowed me to be scared, frustrated and overwhelmed. I was able to scream and yell and curse a God that I’m not even sure I believe exists for putting me through so much agony. In those few hours, I found a place where I could be angry about everything that happened to me. That sounds incredibly selfish, but, it did all happen to me too, and in the end, I lost the man I had intended to be with forever. That little cut changed my life irreparably and yet, until you were gone, I wasn’t able to see all the ways your infection changed me.
It was like someone swooped down and wrapped their arms around me and let me have a little bit of time to truly acknowledge everything we’d gone through, everything I’d gone through, but pushed aside, because I always felt like it was happening to you and I had no right to be in pain or afraid or feel incredibly violated by the experience. I was so frustrated when I couldn't find that stupid cell phone, but, it seems like some greater plan knew I’d need it and that picture when I found it, not immediately after you were gone when things were too raw and too fresh for me to truly appreciate the agony. I found it at the moment when I truly needed a bit of release.
