It slammed into me, this entangled mystery, a few days ago. I’ve wrestled with its myriad implications, yet can’t quite grasp onto it; atleast not entirely. Yeah, and certainly the true significance of …it… still escapes me.

Oh, and scares me. Yip. As well puts the old BS meter on hi-alert.

I just can not stop thinking…why? Why Why Why? Why THAT day? Out of all the days in the year, why that day? How on earth does some random guy walk into the pub, sit down on the stool beside me, we started talking…and how does that guy Mom share the same birthday as Tim? Not year, but exact same day. And well before I had learned of it (two days in), there was a definite mutual attraction. It just threw me for a loop.

So now, you know me, I’m in supersonic over-analyzis mode. And, it is not like there are not some obvious parallels between the two.

I’ll call him Stephen, shares Tim’s self assurance, yet without the manipulation ol’Tim added. With Stephen it appears genuine, and he doesn’t trump up his life with those illusions Tim fabricated. I see no misguided need for grandeur, as he appears comfortable with his choices. Where as Tim re-imagined his life story in order to hide his shame, Stephen is able to share his life experiences, and let them stand on their own merit. There is an honesty to how he presents himself, he expresses and shares his vulnerability, with no strings attached.

I can’t help though to see my own attraction to Tim in a new light, and that’s the real lesson here. I guess I’ve been so entangled up in all the bad things Tim did, I ignore the fact I did genuinely love him, flaws and all. Maybe now I can forgive myself for that.

Tim had a way though, underneath that false veneer of perfectly coiffed hair and style, lay a man of great sensitivity, yet with no outlet. He was taught to hide those errant outbursts of weird, and so he never learned they were a gift, and not shameful.

It was easier to let him go when one added up all his faults you know, far easier to lay aside my grief if I entangled myself in his addiction and lies. Yet, then why did I stay? If it was so bad, why didn’t I leave? And there’s the rub, it wasn’t, he wasn’t, and we did have a good thing.

I can forgive, because ultimately, there is nothing to forgive. I just loved him, and love can be deaf, dumb, and blind. Love sees through the facades we sometimes design to hide our shame. It peers past the walls we built up, the persona we adopt, the fake smiles we wear, the harsh exteriors, and dingy corners.

When love finds you, when it finds its mark, we are rarely successful in overcoming its powerful draw… we are weakened, and vulnerable.

I truly have no idea what happens next, and maybe what happens next isn’t as important as it has been with others I’ve met since Tim’s death. Dating is hard at the best of times, and it often draws its natural comparisons, just this time I guess it’s more in my face.

I suppose all grief has its complications, as do all humans their flaws. Love I guess though often sees past the many ways in which we mask deaths tragedy, and defines our loss.

Maybe it is that vulnerability Tim tried so hard to hide, that I was attracted to from the beginning. Yet with Stephen, I am attracted to the very fact he doesn’t shield himself, but is open with his feelings.

You know all the other stuff that occupies my days, but this, it is something I needed to share. Needed to work through, define, dissect. Is it not weird? Very random, and it cannot just be ignored.

Nothing is ever just straightforward with me, is it Mom? Nope, never boring, least not for long.

Love you, miss you,

Paula