Crying

I think I've mentioned in another post somewhere that I am not a crier. I'll cry out of frustration on occasion and out of grief on occasion. My relationship to crying is really weird. Because it is a physical manifestation of emotion, or at least the most obvious one, I feel like it's what I should do to express the sadness I feel. So when I'm crying about Gordon, I feel like I'm doing the right thing, though I wish I could stop crying. When I'm not crying about Gordon, I feel like I'm not honoring him or that I'm somehow "getting over" him or that I'm once again learning how to obscure my emotions - putting the emptiness and grief wherever I put all the other sources of emptiness and grief so that I can get-on-with-my-life. Busy busy. There are things to be done, books to be read, forms to be filled, papers to be written, emails to be answered.

My dreams betray me. I think I've mentioned that in another blog post too. Last night I dreamt about Gordon. In the dream, he'd died, just as in life. But I kept seeing him in the dream and I kept saying in the dream, I still see him and I miss him and I was crying and crying. I didn't cry as much yesterday and lo and behold, my dreams did the crying for me. Of course, I woke up and cried and it felt terrible and wonderful. I know the grief will subside and that loss will go somewhere in my body, where all the other grief and loss lives. I will bury it so completely that I will only be able to access it in the depths of my subconscious where I will cry in the dream or scream in anger in the dream so that I can keep it together in the real-life.