Chapter Three
I had digested Justine’s actions. They were finally palatable, so I tried to prepare myself to return to work. There were only a few days left to push forward. Although I had been stuck in emotional quicksand, for all intents and purposes, I could put on a brave face. I was slowly growing comfortable with my new façade. A brave face was my goal, and although I didn’t feel like it, I knew that it was imperative to carry the illusion that my life was returning to normal. The truth was that I was learning to live with a new normal. The new normal sucked.
I had spent restless nights trying, but failing, to sleep, as well as attempting to blend those nights into somewhat productive days. Most of the time it was a challenge. I barely had the motivation to go to the bathroom to relieve the necessities demanded of my bowels and bladder. I wasn’t the woman I had been, and at times, I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. My eyes were different. Hollow. Emptiness stared back at me. Death had claimed the vibrancy that had once allowed me to dance to the tune of my husband’s affection. Apparently, the grim reaper had claimed two victims and while one resided in the hereafter, the other stared back at me with a resemblance of the woman I used to be. I knew that if I didn’t at least try to fight to regain myself, the monster created by my broken heart would allow death to claim me as well.
It’s funny. People are motivated so differently to make changes in their lives. For me, it was appearance for appearance’s sake. I didn’t want anyone to see my daily struggle. I worried about what other people would think of me. That they couldn’t trust me because I was no longer the person I used to be. I should have concentrated more on making the necessary changes for me, but I wasn’t that self-absorbed. Instead I began to change for the people I cared about. I should have made myself the priority but my desire was for everyone to identify with the old Hope. I used clothes and cosmetics to recreate a portrait of the girl I used to be. The reality was that she had died when Judge had died. Her heart stopped beating when his did, but I could bring her back. She could be revived as a new creation, but because her life was no longer the same, so never would she be.
Today I was returning to work. This was the first time that I would operate within new thoughts, hopes, and dreams, because the ones that I had shared with Judge were now mixed with his ashen remains. I knew in my heart that if he were here, Judge would be cheering me on to live in the best way I could. But all I could think of was him. I couldn’t comprehend beyond a tiny seed of thought that I might—just might—be able to live without him. I chose a black outfit. Bright colors offended me. I only wanted to wear black, gray, or white. Those hues reflected a more accurate depiction of my inner struggle. Bright tones were reminiscent of the sparkle that Judge’s love had brought into my life. It mattered not what I wore because I quickly reminded myself that this play-acting was for the benefit of friends and family. I didn’t want them to worry unnecessarily about me. They too, had suffered loss, and I was motivated to act as if on a happy stage to ease their concerns. Judge would have scolded me and told me to ignore what other people thought of me.
I reached into the closet and pulled out my black pants. I decided to wear a cobalt blue sweater because it was Judge’s favorite color and I needed to feel close to him today. As my eyes misted, I closed them. I could almost hear his voice inside my head. As I had done many times since his death, I held an imaginary conversation with him. I saw his handsome face within my mind’s eye. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs, watching me as I dressed.
“Why are you doing this, babe?” His voice enveloped me in warmth. “If you feel bad, you feel bad. Who gives a shit what other people think?”
“I don’t know, but unfortunately, I do. Even more so since you’ve been gone.”
“Hope, stop. You’re sad. I don’t think you should care about anybody else. Don’t you think that most people would understand?”
“No. I don’t.” With my eyes still closed, I turned and held onto the bedpost, facing the place where he always sat. “No one understands, Judge. They’ll never understand how we were or how you wanted me to go on. All they know is the loss that they feel. They have no idea what it’s like to be me. No one prepared me for how deep the void would be when I lost you. But you warned me that I would have to push myself to find life and love again. I hate to admit it, but I know that if I don’t do this, Judge, I’m going to lose myself. It’s been months and I barely recognize who I am anymore. Even though everyone lost you, I feel like I’m losing myself.
I need to find me again and work this out my way. I need to do this on my terms. People are starting to worry, especially my mom. I owe it to myself to give life my best shot, otherwise nothing you said to me will have any meaning.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you, baby. You’ve got to find yourself again. You’ll always have us and the memories we shared. What you need to do now is create new memories.” I studied his face, fearing that it was the last time I would see him or have a conversation such as this. His expression wasn’t one of anger, but of determination. His full lips were tight and his forehead had furrowed lines etched in his skin. “I love you, Hope, and I never asked you to be anyone other than yourself. Don’t try to be anyone else, especially for other people. I love you just the way you are and so should they. Always remember that.”
And just like that, Judge was gone.