I asked my Aunt yesterday to help us set up the pavilion pre-ceremony, as well as to help me get ready at the church. It means A LOT to me, since she’s the closest, biologically, to my mother. If my Mom can’t be there to zip me into my dress, my Aunt is the next best. I know it meant a lot to her that I asked.
I told Finn this, in front of his brother (the one who guilted him into naming him best man, but that’s a whole other can of WTF), who was there to pick him up for his bachelor party. After that conversation, the following happened.
BM = brother/best man
F = Finn
M = Me
BM – I’m not going to be able to help set-up for the reception. I have to work the night before.
M – That’s ok, my Aunt and Uncle said they’d help.
BM – FBIL and FSIL (the ones I’ve posted about. Repetitively) are going to help decorate.
M – No, that’s ok. Aunt and Uncle will be there.
F – (says something I forget)
BM – FBIL and FSIL WILL help.
… silence …
First of all, I FUCKING HATE to be told how things are going to happen.
Second of all neither Finn nor I do well with demands, and that’s exactly what it felt like.
Third of all, we haven’t asked them for their input on ANYTHING. Absolutely nothing at all. In fact, I’ve avoided giving FSIL any details.
Fourth of all (seriously?), No. Just… No. His family have done all they can to take over the ceremony. The reception is MY baby. It’s my blood (no, literally, I cut myself a couple of times), sweat, and tears that went into planning out the decorations, and then making them WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS. I will most definitely lose my shit if someone ruins any of my hard work.
So, yeah. I’m fucking irritated. They’ve done everything they can to take over this wedding, and I’m at my wits end with the whole lot of them.
Finn’s not to happy with them at this point, either. BM said he was planning on leaving the reception after his speech, told us that their mom probably won’t come to the reception (that one I 100% understand, as she just had surgery), and that the rest of the family probably won’t, either. Finn said that if they don’t come, he won’t speak to any of them for a year.
Six more days of this shit, and I’m done.
I’m getting married! We have 59 days left to go. It’s been so hard without you here to bounce ideas off of. You’re going to be represented in small, but obvious ways. My dress, OMG my dress. It’s amazing! It’s light and airy, and GREY. Grey, the color that represents lung disease awareness. I didn’t even realize it until my dress was in my arms.
The flowers were another happy accident. Lilacs, roses, lilies, hydrangeas. All flowers I know you loved. It was almost like you’d been guiding my hand as I picked them out. I’m even using eucalyptus as filler, because the smell relaxes me because you always had a eucalyptus spray sitting on the fireplace when I was growing up. Small things my fiance’s family won’t think twice about, but our side will definitely see it.
My necklace is doubled-stranded, with two open filigree lockets. One locket has your birthstone, the other has my fiance’s. I attached another locket to dad’s boutoneer with both of your birthstones inside.
But mom, things are going sideways. My fiance’s family is driving me bat shit insane. His mom claims it’s our wedding, and tells us to do what we want, but then turns around and puts down all of our ideas. Sunday, she even questioned why I want to wear boots. Mom, the wedding is a rustic/country theme. of course I want to wear cowboy boots. It’s part of who I am.
His brother’s wife is trying to pretend they’re part of the bridal party. She’s trying to have her and her husband match us. It’s annoying, but far from the end of the world. I’ll just make sure the photographer keeps them on the outside of group photos. His mom did, however, ask if I had a preference as to what color she wears. I told her anything but grey or pale pink, as that’s what my MOH and I are wearing. I’m hoping that gets spread through the family. I told my fiancé and added that I hope she realizes white is included in that. He said he hopes so, too. Even he knows you don’t wear white to someone else’s wedding.
As our wedding day inches nearer, I’m missing you more and more. I’ve ugly cried more than once. You may not be there physically, but I’ll make damn sure you’ll be there spiritually.
Back story (because I apparently forgot to make a post about this craziness):
I received a phone call from Finn’s mom last week, asking how much it costs to file for divorce ($170 to file, plus have them served).
Why did she want to know?
So she could pay for my divorce.
Wait for it…
Finn’s brother is getting married later this month, and Finn’s mom is upset that we aren’t because we’ve “been together longer”.
Between that, and yesterday’s guilt trip, I’m not looking forward to the “family day” they have planned on the 22nd. I didn’t find out until after we’d agreed to that date that they’re also planning a reception for Finn’s brother and his wife after their courthouse wedding the day before.
I’m also kicking myself in the ass, because when we were given dates to choose from, it had completely slipped my mind that the 22nd is also the day of Scott’s celebration of life.
There’s no fucking way I’m missing it. Scott changed my life. He helped me break out of financially abusive marriage. He helped me break out of my shell. To take up for myself.
Finn’s mom was never supportive of Scott and I remaining friends. She told me things that were supposedly said by another of his exes (that he was lying about the cancer, that he never actually loved me, basically a bunch of bullshit).
I know she’s going to throw a fit when we have to duck out of the “reception” early to take the kidlets to my dad so we can go to the celebration of life (it’s at the bar Scott and I met at, the bar he used to bartend at).
…was unexpectedly very spiritual for me.
First, I found a red and gray cardinal down feather on my front porch that hadn’t been there five minutes before. Then, while at the fair, watching monster trucks, I had a cicada land in my hair.
If you remember from this post, cicadas mean a LOT to me.
Between the feather and the cicada, it seems like someone from the spiritual world was trying to contact me. The cardinal usually symbolizes a loved one, and, for me, the cicada has always represented my grandfather.
I’m wishing it was Scott, but I truly just don’t know yet.
When Scott ended things because of his cancer diagnosis, it broke me. It shattered me. He had his reasons, and I understood and respected them. But it wasn’t until I received the call that I fully grasped it.
As much as it hurt then… what would it have been like had he not ended it? I’d be broken beyond repair. I wouldn’t have Finn.
In meeting Finn, and starting the relationship with him, I gave Scott exactly what he needed and wanted from me. The knowledge that I was happy, and was going to be OK.
He truly changed my life. I wouldn’t be where I am today had I never met him. I probably would have never met Finn, and would probably still be in the god-awful marriage to STBXH. Scott rescued me, when I didn’t have the funds to save myself. He taught me I deserve respect. Something he said to me on our first “date” still sticks with me… “You’re not broken, they didn’t deserve you.” One sentence, seven words, ten syllables, changed my entire life.
I hope you see how much you meant to me. I still carry you in my heart. I’ll always love you. Now – can you do me a favor and give me some sort of sign that you’re OK, and are still gonna send your guidance from the afterlife? I’ve been waiting – not so patiently.
Scott passed away this morning. I got the call around noon. He’d passed only an hour earlier.
I need to vent somewhere.
I want to scream, I want to yell, but mostly, I just want to curl up in a ball and cry. He was an amazing friend to me, and I wouldn’t be where I am in life if I’d never met him.
Fuck cancer. Fuck August.
He’ll forever be in my heart. I’ll never not love him.
I’m still waiting for it to all sink in.
I fucking hate August!
This past weekend, a friend mine and Finn’s was killed when hit by a car in a hit and run. Witnesses say he flew 100+ feet. Yesterday, the suspect turned herself in. She’s claiming she thought she’d hit a deer. We’re hoping justice will be served to the fullest extent of the law.
On another note, Scott is in Hospice inpatient care. The doctors aren’t giving a timeline, but are saying it’ll be soon.
Tomorrow marks seven years since my mom passed away, and yesterday was seven years since the last time I’d seen her alive.
September needs to hurry the fuck up.
We haven’t talked too much in the past few months, but he’s been updating me on his progress.
He did his last chemo treatment on July 6th, and the follow up scan showed that the cancer slowed, and the tumors shrank.
Looking back, I can see that he did the right thing. Yeah, it hurt, but now I’m looking at things as an outsider. I worked through the pain of the breakup while still having his friendship. It would have been a million times harder to deal with the pain of his death.
I thank God he did things the way he did. It gave me time to process the loss, and it allows him to see me happy before he does pass.
How do I even begin to explain how much my life has changed?
On June 8, 2014, I met Scott at a bar. I’d had a rough day and a (now) former friend suggested we go somewhere to get me out of the house. Scott overheard what we were talking about and offered me and my boys a place. We moved in less than a week later.
It was an extremely fast paced relationship. I fell for him fast and hard.
Fast forward to 2015. Anything that could go wrong, did go wrong. In late January, he went to the hospital and was told he had pneumonia, a month later, he was worse. He went back to the hospital and the chest X-ray revealed that his entire left lung was filled with fluid. They found cancerous cells in the fluid.
The evening he was released from the hospital, he told me he wanted me to “move on” and “find someone else.” He doesn’t want me to hurt anymore than I have to. He wants me to be happy, and he can’t provide the happiness I deserve anymore.
It hurt. It fucking shattered me when he said those words. I don’t like it, I don’t want it, but I accept it. I have no choice but to accept it.
It’s been three weeks since he ended it, and I’m still currently living in his house, though it feels more like simply existing. We’re on good terms. It was hard, at first, to separate the relationship from the friendship.
He’s supportive of me seeing Finn. And Finn is aware of how bizarre this whole situation is.
I’m’a be OK.
It’s currently 0139, and I can’t freaking sleep. My mind is racing. I had a very emotional day.
Scott and I got to talk a good bit. I cried a lot. I said the words that have been buzzing around my head and heart these past couple of weeks.
I love him. He’ll always be a part of me. I’ll never not love him. I hoped that I brought as much happiness into his life as he brought into mine. I know he doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to hurt me. I’m trying to be strong, but sometimes I break. That I wanted something to remember him by.
He gave me a dragon charm that he always used to wear. It’s him. He has two dragon tattoos, and I have one. I’m wearing it on the claddagh necklace he bought me when we first met.
I feel a bit better than I have been. Like I’m closer to closure. One baby step at a time.