The Little Things

At random times, I find little pieces of Barry around me.

There is no rhyme or reason to when they pop up, sometimes there are a lot, and sometimes there aren't many at all.

It's when I notice my eyes glance to the clock, and it is always at 11:11 AM, the time he died. This happens quite often actually, and it's quite painful for me.

It's walking through Target and finding the double pack of deodorant I would always buy for him. Degree. I kept the last stick he was using, I have it tucked away in his toiletry bag.

It's seeing a 12 pack of Pepsi Throwback, that he loved so very much. When he was alive, it was only out in the 20oz glass bottles, which we found at Safeway.

It's hearing a song, which isn't even meant to be sad, but has words like "How am I supposed to move on when I'm still in love with you?", or another song that has words like "I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing...when a heart breaks no it don't break even....I'm falling to pieces...what am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you?". When I hear words like this, like yesterday, I sob to myself while I am driving home from errands. Words like this make me sad.

It's watching "Inglourious Basterds" for the first time since August, when we saw it in the theater on our last date. I watched it the other night, and I got through it ok, but I couldn't help but think of Barry the whole time and the time we spent in the theater watching it. He wanted us to sit at the very back, and there was the A/C fan above me and I was FREEZING. Seeing "The Jew Hunter" and knowing how much Barry loved him. Remembering that night we went to Cold Stone creamery and had ice cream together after the movie.

It's not being able to watch "Religulous" with Bill Mahr, because that was the movie we saw when he was home for E's birthday in October 2008. I had it at home for two months with Netflix and I was meaning to watch it, but I just couldn't, so I sent it back.

It's cleaning out the van and finding some bottles of his that were hidden under the seat, and not knowing they were there. Or going through my junk basket and finding an old can of Copenhagen that was his, and that I have now purposely left in there.

And it's having his picture around to look at even when I get sad.

Barry is all around me, sometimes I wish I could escape him, but it seems impossible.

Barry, "how can I move on when I'm still in love with you?"