Back in January, I went to Chattanooga with Rebecca. It was the first trip I’ve taken with a romantic partner since Emily’s death, which I thought would be weird. For the most part, though, it ended up being a lot of fun.

On Saturday evening, we cooked at our Airbnb, then spent a bit of time answering random questions from this deck of cards I got Rebecca for Christmas. Although they were advertised as cards to help you and your partner get to know each other on a deeper level, I didn’t think they’d get quite as deep as they did.

The card that got me simply asked you to name someone you want to ask to forgive you. As soon as I started speaking, I felt my throat close up and the tears begin. I knew exactly who was on my mind, and it hit me like a sack of bricks — it was Emily.

I Wanted to be a Better Partner

As I briefly mentioned in the last post, I’m far from perfect. If I’m being completely honest, I’m an incredibly difficult person to be in a relationship with.

I feel everything in big ways. I worry about every little thing, and I’m constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. I feel inadequate every single day, even on the days when my partner tells me how wonderful I am. When things are going well, I panic. Sometimes I even do stupid, ridiculous things because I think it’s better for me to mess things up than wait for the end to come.

It’s not great.

I can think of at least a dozen times during the year and a half Emily and I spent as romantic partners in which I was absolutely terrible. And I want to vomit every single time they reappear in my mind. Here are some of the highlights:

• About two weeks into our relationship, Emily went to grab dinner with her ex. It turned into a whole ordeal where he insisted on spending the night and ignored any hint that they were broken up. I got upset, hung up on her, and ignored her texts for over an hour while I cried in my closet.
• During the first December we were together, Emily was interviewed on the phone by a Knoxville TV channel who was running a continuation on the story about her dad’s Christmas light display and her transplant. During that call, she mentioned me multiple times, but used words like “friend” and “roommate.” After the call, I was very quiet. When she asked what was wrong, I asked why she was so ashamed of me. I know it was more that she was dealing with her shame around being gay, and I hated that I made it about me.
• We planned an impromptu trip to LA for the same weekend we were supposed to be completely moved out of Emily’s apartment. She procrastinated packing, and I got in trouble the day we were supposed to leave because I’d been using work time to pack things and had gotten behind on a project. I then had a meltdown and told her I couldn’t handle going and she should go by herself. I turned off my phone and tried to calm down, which she took as far more than it was, and she panic called my therapist.
• The evening before Emily died, we had a small disagreement, and I was pouty. We went to bed with this awkward tension because we were both simultaneously angry and anxious about the other person being mad. I never got the chance to apologize.

I realize these are all trivial, but it’s all a pattern. I can’t apologize for any of it, and I worry I’ll continue making the same mistakes with Rebecca and eventually push her away. I also wonder if I’d been better, would Emily still be alive. I’ll never know.

I Wanted to Save Her

I’ve written at great length about how I feel responsible for Emily’s death. She was dealing with pain and other symptoms on and off for over 2 weeks before the evening I finally got fed up and told her we were going to the ER. What if we’d gone sooner?

There was one other night we almost went. I’d just put the kids to bed, and when I came back down to the living room, Emily was in a lot of pain. I first asked if she could call someone to take her (the friend we tried wasn’t in a state to drive a car). I then offered to either get the kids back up or call my brother, both of which Emily declined and said the pain was subsiding. What if she was having a heart attack that night? Would going to the ER have helped them diagnose the issue?

I’ve asked her several times to forgive me, but it’s really useless. I’ll never feel better until I forgive myself, and I’m not sure I can.

I’m Moving Forward

The past two months have been this mixture of bliss and internal torture as my brain tries to make sense of what’s happening. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this happy, and Rebecca is the perfect balance of logic and empathy my big emotions and recovering heart could use. I see glimpses of a future again, a future I’m very much looking forward to.

But then there are nights when I can’t sleep because I realize how little I’ve thought of Emily that day because I’m focused on the present moment and how much I enjoy it.

I don’t think there’s necessarily a “more” when it comes to love, but I do think the admiration and spark I feel for both Rebecca and for Emily is creating internal conflict. I know Emily would be happy to see me so happy, but I can’t help but feel like I’m breaking my promises to her. And, at the same time, I feel like I’m not showing Rebecca the love she deserves because I’ll mention Emily from time to time.

Again, I can ask Emily for forgiveness, but it’s my own consciousness that’s the issue.

One of my friends said the other day that I really need to love myself before I can love anyone else. But how can someone love themselves when they’re constantly weighed down with guilt?

I don’t know, but I need to figure it out fast. The timer is filling with sand and I’m going to lose my time if I don’t act fact.