Saturday, January 14, 2012

Everything happens for a reason?

When I had my miscarriage "Everything Happens for a Reason" was the thing I heard the most. I absolutely hated hearing it. I didn't see the reason, and I didn't get why people thought that saying would make me feel better. I didn't understand why I would accidentally get pregnant, only to lose the baby. I didn't get it.
And then I thought about Cameron. He came to me when I was pregnant in 2008. And when I told him my theory that he was my reason, he thought he was my reason after I lost the baby. We both agreed. And then at the end of August 2011, we broke up. It was horrible, and something I never wanted to imagine. Life without Cameron was not anything I had ever prepared for. I did it. He lived in Whitecourt, and I in Saskatoon. (We had planned to live separately as a couple, but ended up living apart broken up). I called him a lot after we had broken up. He was the person. The person I called to feel better, and to smile, and to laugh. It  didn't change. It wasn't as frequent as the months continued, but it still happened. I knew who could make me smile. I knew who I could tell anything to.
We hadn't seen each other since September. I had gone to Whitecourt to pick up some of my things. I stayed for three days. He worked during the days, but we saw each other at night. The day I left, we went for breakfast. Before I got into my car to head home, we hugged. It wasn't enough. I knew it was our ending. I asked for another hug. I knew we would be friends, but was heart broken that we wouldn't be more.
Until then, I had hoped he would be my 'Mr Big'. A man who someday would realise it was me he loved, but didn't know it. I stopped believing that. Mostly because it got more and more unlikely. We were better as friends. At first, talking to him was hard. I wanted to move on, I didn't want to love him. When I say love, I don't mean 'in love'. I mean love. With my whole heart. I don't know what 'in love' means anymore. I know that he was somebody I was scared to live without. He was a best friend.
I realised that I didn't want to stop talking to him. I didn't want the distance. Cameron and I talked about twice a month. Not a lot. It turned out to be not as much as I would have liked, but he was busy and I was busy. Real life of a separated couple.
We spoke in the middle of December. I told him a story about not fitting into any of my dresses. He laughed his head off. His infectious laugh. I know people constantly talk about infectious laughter. I'm sure they are correct. But Cameron... he had it. We caught up on life. He told me about a girl he met on line. I was jealous, but I hid it. I gave advice. We hung up.
I texted him later to let him know that my job had become permanent. When he texted me back to say he was happy for me, I didn't respond. I don't know why.
We texted again after that. We were making arrangements for when he came home for Christmas. I wanted to see him on the Thursday he got home. Or Friday. I was so excited to see him. Catch up in person. Hug in person. Be friends.
The day he was supposed to be coming back I texted a friend who was getting a ride back with him. I had suggested she speak to him about a ride. She was going to come back to Saskatoon with him. When I texted her to ask how far they were, she told me he wasn't there yet. She had called his phone, and a constable had answered. He told her he would send officers to her house. She thought it was a joke.
It wasn't. Cameron was killed in a car accident not even 20 minutes out of Whitecourt. He was headed to Edmonton on Wednesday. He was going to pick up Brittany (from Edmonton) the next day, and never picked her up. Nobody knew until the cops went to her house. They told her not to tell anybody. She wouldn't answer my phone calls or texts. I knew, but didn't want to. I was at work, so called Denise to comfort me... or to find out the truth. She found out the truth, and came to my work to get me. I can't get that day out of my head.
I don't know how to get through this. I also don't know why people think the saying "Everything happens for a reason" is of any help at all. My reason is gone. And I hate to say that out loud because it makes me sound depressing and out of solutions... but that's what I feel.
I'm not saying I won't move on in life. I don't know where I will move on to, and I don't know if I'll find that 'love of my life' I've always thought I would find. But I'll keep going, and I'll learn how to laugh at all the things I once thought were funny... But I won't be the same, and I'll always try to figure out why things happen for a reason. I thought I had it all figured out... but I don't know.
I'll be writing again. It's not like the entries after my miscarriage. I wrote them about a year after the fact -as with the deaths of my grandma McCrea and my grandfather Burton. This is not even a month after the fact. I found out he died on December 22nd. So in this case, any writing I will be doing will be direct healing. Hopefully.
We weren't a couple, but I loved him. And I miss him, and am still trying to get this. Why it happened? Why he isn't here? Why I couldn't have one more hug?
I'm publishing this now.

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