27th Jul2011

Hable con ella

by Dutchcloggie

Needless European blog title really. Just that there is a film called Hable con Ella which means Talk to Her. Which is what I have taken to doing every night.

I don’t know why. I don’t believe in an afterlife. Dead is dead and Jane is dead. I don’t have a feeling that she is still with me in some way. Quite the opposite: I feel she has left me in every way possible. No vague signs for me. No whispering of my name when I am alone. No strange sounds. No imprint of her body on the bed. Dead. Gone. That’s what I believe.

(On a side note: If this is a wrong belief, then it is clear Jane loves me a lot. If she IS around me, she knows I would be completely freaked out by her proving there IS an afterlife. So she keeps quiet. There we go. I have just created a situation where Jane NOT manifesting herself is just as much proof of afterlife as Jane appearing to me. Sweet.)

So why do I talk to Jane? It is only for 2 minutes usually, whilst looking at her picture. And I usually cry. Maybe it is something I feel like doing specifically because I know I will cry? Crying is not nice, but it is better than feeling numb. I reckon I should cry a little every day. So I talk to a picture for a few minutes. Then I cry. Then I tell the picture I miss her.

And finally I feel rather stupid.

But if I don’t do it then some days will go by without talking about Jane. And that is something I am just not ready for. So if there is nobody here to talk to about Jane, I’ll do it myself.

Weirdo.

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