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Alexya

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About Alexya

  • Rank
    Newbie

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Female
  • Loss Type
    Sudden loss of boyfriend of 8 yrs
  • Angel Date
    7/26/2016

Converted

  • Occupation
    Expo
  • Last Name
    Powell
  • First Name
    Alexya
  • Zip
    37086

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  1. Lost my Love

    This keeps me through the day. He laughed that big everyday, and it's the only picture I have of that. It was our first Fourth of July together with my family after I had turned 18. He was so happy to finally be accepted by them.
  2. Lost my Love

    I think I'm doing alright. I know I'm not my best, but I am able to think about what to do from now on. I have my moments of the same pain, but it's not nearly as constanfly. I've accepted it, and I am doing my best to make it a day at a time. I let myself be distracted by shows and games, though games him and I never played together. It does hurt thinking I've already started forgetting what it felt like to hug him. No more back rubs when I'm achy from work, no more "everything will be alright, have I ever be wrong before?" I feel alone, I just want someone I can cling to. He comforted me right now to my soul when my mental handicaps reared their ugly head. It's hard dealing with it on my own. My chest physically hurts from the front, to my back randomly. Like a spear just went through me. I try to breathe through it and not get swept up. I never let thoughts that pain me stay for long, especially if they're making me cry really bad. I do let myself cry, but not to the point that I am nearly hyperventilating myself is what I mean. I have some good friends, and a great family around me(his too). I've had support, and his friends have started to become consistent in my life. I even have a friend who went through the same thing I did, except it was a car accident. It kind of felt good to actually cry with someone who recognized my pain and was willing to tell me the truth that it will never go away, it will always hurt, but it will get easier to deal with. I talk to him every morning, spontaneously through the day. I'm not religious, I'm not praying, I just randomly spurt out that I love and miss him, I might cry for a second, but it's quick, and makes me feel a little pressure relief. I have a few of his this. I'd like more, but his mother won't give up. I don't blame her, in the least. One day, I might be able to have the PC I'm still paying for, or the bass guitar he got me. That was the most expensive thing he was ever able to buy me. He was proud of it, I could play music with him, that made him even more excited. I want to keep playing, he loved playing music. He was so good at guitar. I loved listening to him play, he even had his own songs. Just the music, no lyrics. I wish I had recordings of him playing it, and I'm hoping there could be something on his PC, but I doubt it. I will be better, I'm determined to use this freed time to continue my excersing, quit smoking cigarettes, try to become more social, go to school. I bought a car yesterday, to continue working at the same place. They've worked with me so well. Dating seems foreign, but it doesn't pain me. Charles always knew I preferred women, he'd let me fill my needs as necessary. Maybe that is what is making me feel more comfortable with the thought. Idk, but it's making me wonder on how I should even go about being single in general, not even just dating. I have so much time. I never realized how much I talked to him on the phone, played games with him, watched tv with him, went to the store with him, texted, helped, got things for, went for walks with, went to friends. Every single day, between him and work, I had no time to do other things I enjoyed. Never had time to write, or draw. To learn Spanish. To go out with my friends, not just his. I will figure everything out as I go though.
  3. Lost my Fiance 7/26/16

    I've been up and down like a roller coaster, and mostly down. I don't know how to cope with this. I don't know what to do to feel better, but I don't want to feel better. I don't know if that makes any sense. I want to feel the loss, he was my everything. But I don't want to feel the pain, that heart retching near vomiting pain. The inability to breathe. It was a sudden loss. I had been with him the night before, bowling. We had so much fun. But the next morning, that was it. I didn't even know. I had been going on with my day as if everything was alright. I wake up at 6 am, I'd be lucky to get him out of bed at 11 or 12. We didn't live together, not at the moment, but our relationship was still thriving. I saw him every day, he drove me to work, brought me home, he'd stayed for a few hours or we'd go eat dinner after work. Then he'd go home, which was only five minutes away. I'd call him before bed, exchange goodnights and kisses(which I did the night before he passed) I play video games, but most of them I played with him. I can't play those right now, it rips me open. I downloaded a game I used to play a long time ago and for a few hours of playing, I felt fine. I was cutting up with people and catching myself laughing. But the moment I took my headphones off, and looked at his favourite pillow, I realized for the last three hours, I had completely forgotten him. It had felt like a normal day for a small sliver of time, and it destroyed me. How could I have forgotten? It had only been five days ago. I don't know if I want to play the game anymore, even though it relieved my emotions. This was only an hour ago. I'm lost, I don't know what to do. I don't want to wallow, I don't want to hide in my room under the blankets. He always hated it when I got depressed and hid from the world. He said it broke his heart. I don't want him to look down at me and see that. He was my guiding force, he helped me in all my decision makings: new jobs, clothing, new friends, new activities, absolutely anything that I had to choose. I was never good at making decisions. I am that fool that takes an hour to pick out a black t-shirt. He spoiled me with that, because now, I can't make a single decision. I sit here and stare, hoping to hear him tell me whats the right thing to do, or the pros and cons of each decision. Do I play the video game, and make myself feel better, which in the end makes me feel guilty? Or do I lay in bed and watch his favourite shows and just sob all day, but in the end makes me miserable and debilitated?
  4. Lost my Love

    I honestly don't know if this is the correct thread, but I wanted to let it out. It's just a rambling, with many different thoughts. I've been in mourning for five days. The man I loved for eight years was ripped away from my suddenly. My heart has been ripped open. I felt closure at the funeral, but after, I felt my first burst of anger, and it was at myself. We had a unique sex life, filled with aggression and release of pent up emotions. We "made love" only twice, neither of us were romantics. I have a dominant stance in bed(had come out lesbian before I met him), but with him, my entire being submitted to him. Our honeymoon period lasted years, well over half our relationship. But after so long(two years ago), my dominance was pent up and I began to push him away on his advances. Not because I didn't want to be with him at that moment, but because I wanted him to rip that stubbornness from me. I told him only once, in the beginning of the change. It worked, but the stubbornness never went away. I still pushed him away, in the same manner as always. I feel it was selfish, he had health conditions, and his energy level declined. Yet, most time he wanted, I was stubborn. Not all the time, though. i feel anger at myself for making him go without so many times because I was too blind to see that he might have been too tired that day to deal with my ****. The night before he passed was one of those nights. He was tired but he didn't show it. I was drunk, I was being difficult. In the morning, the tides changed, as they usually did and I was messaging him, telling him I wanted him, that he should come over. I was so riled up, I had missed my chance that night, but I still wanted it. It had been a week since we had sex. I felt I needed him so bad. Then he was gone. That pent up need for release is still there, and I'm a mourning mess. I can't do it, I can't make myself release, because the moment I close my eyes to relax, I remember, so vividly, our sex. Then sorrow just crashes over me. Its a vicious circle and it feels like torture. How do I deal with this? The man I dated since I was 15 was gone, I'm 23 now, turning 24. I built my life around him by every single form of the term. He was on disability, hardly got 700$ a month(only 500 for the first six years). I Had to work, I bought him everything he wanted, even a beast of a PC for over a grand(which I'm still paying for on a credit card). I paid for all of our dates, I paid for anything and everything. I even supported us in our own apartment for a year til I lost my job(at only 19, I did this). All of my foundation was him. Any decision I made was ran by him for any opinions he had. He would call me on my **** when I did wrong, made a bad choice and didn't run it by him. "That's what I'm here for." Is what he would say. just a month and a half ago, I got a promotion at work, making $11 an hour. I was three an hour away from being able to pay for an apartment again. i started working out, since serving made me drop 25 pounds, I pushed for more loss. I did it because he was getting depressed, and I was trying to beam at him about how much better I feel. That after I work out, I could conquer the world. Eventually, a total of 40 pounds were gone, I dropped two pants sizes. My plan had worked, it got him motivated, up and active. I took him to Academy Sports and he agreed to a stationary bike. He began to use it, and he got better. He started out at five minutes a day, eventually got up to thirty. He began to tone so quickly, his confidence boosted. Finally he was out of the house, walking with me at the park, going out to dinner once a week, going bowling, going to the movies. He wanted to go do laser tag after his nephew flew back home. He even started painting and playing music again. I was so elated. I thought there would be hope for his well being. He went bowling with his nephew and I six days ago. He had so much fun, I drank too much beer so he took me home. I was difficult, I pushed off his advances. Then he was gone. How do I deal with this? I don't let the sadness take me. I let it crash, overwhelm, but flow over me, not wash me away with the rip tide. I'm grieving, but I don't know how to do it. I'm told to let it take me over, I'm told to write, I'm told to take boxing or mma classes, I'm told to go out to a club and drink, I'm told to go to a therapist, I'm told to go to the doctor and get something to help the pain, I'm told to work over time, I'm told to go out with friends, I'm told to be with my family, I'm told to be with his family, I'm told to go jogging, I'm told to ****, I'm told to rebound, I'm told to binge watch his favourite shows, I'm told to read his favourite books, I'm told to go to school, I'm told to eat his favourite foods, I'm told to hide under blankets. I wish he was here, to grab my face like he always did when my anxiety panic disorder kicked in, force me to look him in the eye, and say "I love you. Everything will be okay, baby. Have I ever been wrong?" Then he'd help me take deep breaths to stop the on coming hyperventilation. He'd hold me til my breathing was even and the tears were gone, no matter if it took two hours or five minutes. I took care of him financially, but he took care of me on much more profound levels. I relied on him as my strong pillar. To keep me going when I stressed too much and my disorder took me over. It was hard a lot for me, working all the time, I was, and am so young. I'd come home and he'd make it all better. He allowed me my space, to move in with my aunt cause she lived not even two miles away. So I could be free on some of my days off, but I'd still see him every day. every single day. How do I over come this? Im not religious. I'm a free thinker, and so was he. We both sought knowledge. We watched so many documentaries together. We played music together, him on guitar, me on bass. We played video games together, we did art together. We read books together. We did puzzles together. Our interests were aligned so perfectly. We were best friends. We were a year from common law marriage. I was never able to give him a child. I wanted to so bad. We tried so hard. I wanted something to have that was a part of him when he passed. I knew he wouldn't be around forever, he was a heart transplant recipient. His health was on the line every single day. I wanted one more hug, one more nasty kiss because his lips were bigger than mind and sloppy, one more time for him to lay his head in my lap and to pet his head, one more time for him to tease me about my perfectionist attitude, one more laugh. Oh god, his laugh was so uplifting. He laughed so much. I worshiped him. It wasn't until he passed I found out how much he worshipped me. His mom and sisters favourite topic is how much he talked about me, how much he praised me, how much he bragged when I wasn't around. How hard I'd been working, how much weight I had lost, how my cigarette smoking slowed down. How I was planning on college, how I was on video games, how well I drew. Hearing that, I guess selfishly, makes me feel better. I was trying to get my life right, to stop wasting money on smokes, on too many snacks. That I lost so much weight that my knee wasn't hurting anymore, or my back. My feet hurt less at work, so I could work more. To have a child, to settle down. I only pursued that promotion for that reason. I honestly don't know what else to say right now. Maybe if I feel better, I might post his memories. The picture is the last one I ever took with him, the night before.
  5. Lost my Love

    I honestly don't know if this is the correct thread, but I wanted to let it out. It's just a rambling, with many different thoughts. I've been in mourning for five days. The man I loved for eight years was ripped away from my suddenly. My heart has been ripped open. I felt closure at the funeral, but after, I felt my first burst of anger, and it was at myself. We had a unique sex life, filled with aggression and release of pent up emotions. We "made love" only twice, neither of us were romantics. I have a dominant stance in bed(had come out lesbian before I met him), but with him, my entire being submitted to him. Our honeymoon period lasted years, well over half our relationship. But after so long(two years ago), my dominance was pent up and I began to push him away on his advances. Not because I didn't want to be with him at that moment, but because I wanted him to rip that stubbornness from me. I told him only once, in the beginning of the change. It worked, but the stubbornness never went away. I still pushed him away, in the same manner as always. I feel it was selfish, he had health conditions, and his energy level declined. Yet, most time he wanted, I was stubborn. Not all the time, though. i feel anger at myself for making him go without so many times because I was too blind to see that he might have been too tired that day to deal with my ****. The night before he passed was one of those nights. He was tired but he didn't show it. I was drunk, I was being difficult. In the morning, the tides changed, as they usually did and I was messaging him, telling him I wanted him, that he should come over. I was so riled up, I had missed my chance that night, but I still wanted it. It had been a week since we had sex. I felt I needed him so bad. Then he was gone. That pent up need for release is still there, and I'm a mourning mess. I can't do it, I can't make myself release, because the moment I close my eyes to relax, I remember, so vividly, our sex. Then sorrow just crashes over me. Its a vicious circle and it feels like torture. How do I deal with this? The man I dated since I was 15 was gone, I'm 23 now, turning 24. I built my life around him by every single form of the term. He was on disability, hardly got 700$ a month(only 500 for the first six years). I Had to work, I bought him everything he wanted, even a beast of a PC for over a grand(which I'm still paying for on a credit card). I paid for all of our dates, I paid for anything and everything. I even supported us in our own apartment for a year til I lost my job(at only 19, I did this). All of my foundation was him. Any decision I made was ran by him for any opinions he had. He would call me on my **** when I did wrong, made a bad choice and didn't run it by him. "That's what I'm here for." Is what he would say. just a month and a half ago, I got a promotion at work, making $11 an hour. I was three an hour away from being able to pay for an apartment again. i started working out, since serving made me drop 25 pounds, I pushed for more loss. I did it because he was getting depressed, and I was trying to beam at him about how much better I feel. That after I work out, I could conquer the world. Eventually, a total of 40 pounds were gone, I dropped two pants sizes. My plan had worked, it got him motivated, up and active. I took him to Academy Sports and he agreed to a stationary bike. He began to use it, and he got better. He started out at five minutes a day, eventually got up to thirty. He began to tone so quickly, his confidence boosted. Finally he was out of the house, walking with me at the park, going out to dinner once a week, going bowling, going to the movies. He wanted to go do laser tag after his nephew flew back home. He even started painting and playing music again. I was so elated. I thought there would be hope for his well being. He went bowling with his nephew and I six days ago. He had so much fun, I drank too much beer so he took me home. I was difficult, I pushed off his advances. Then he was gone. How do I deal with this? I don't let the sadness take me. I let it crash, overwhelm, but flow over me, not wash me away with the rip tide. I'm grieving, but I don't know how to do it. I'm told to let it take me over, I'm told to write, I'm told to take boxing or mma classes, I'm told to go out to a club and drink, I'm told to go to a therapist, I'm told to go to the doctor and get something to help the pain, I'm told to work over time, I'm told to go out with friends, I'm told to be with my family, I'm told to be with his family, I'm told to go jogging, I'm told to ****, I'm told to rebound, I'm told to binge watch his favourite shows, I'm told to read his favourite books, I'm told to go to school, I'm told to eat his favourite foods, I'm told to hide under blankets. I wish he was here, to grab my face like he always did when my anxiety panic disorder kicked in, force me to look him in the eye, and say "I love you. Everything will be okay, baby. Have I ever been wrong?" Then he'd help me take deep breaths to stop the on coming hyperventilation. He'd hold me til my breathing was even and the tears were gone, no matter if it took two hours or five minutes. I took care of him financially, but he took care of me on much more profound levels. I relied on him as my strong pillar. To keep me going when I stressed too much and my disorder took me over. It was hard a lot for me, working all the time, I was, and am so young. I'd come home and he'd make it all better. He allowed me my space, to move in with my aunt cause she lived not even two miles away. So I could be free on some of my days off, but I'd still see him every day. every single day. How do I over come this? Im not religious. I'm a free thinker, and so was he. We both sought knowledge. We watched so many documentaries together. We played music together, him on guitar, me on bass. We played video games together, we did art together. We read books together. We did puzzles together. Our interests were aligned so perfectly. We were best friends. We were a year from common law marriage. I was never able to give him a child. I wanted to so bad. We tried so hard. I wanted something to have that was a part of him when he passed. I knew he wouldn't be around forever, he was a heart transplant recipient. His health was on the line every single day. I wanted one more hug, one more nasty kiss because his lips were bigger than mind and sloppy, one more time for him to lay his head in my lap and to pet his head, one more time for him to tease me about my perfectionist attitude, one more laugh. Oh god, his laugh was so uplifting. He laughed so much. I worshiped him. It wasn't until he passed I found out how much he worshipped me. His mom and sisters favourite topic is how much he talked about me, how much he praised me, how much he bragged when I wasn't around. How hard I'd been working, how much weight I had lost, how my cigarette smoking slowed down. How I was planning on college, how I was on video games, how well I drew. Hearing that, I guess selfishly, makes me feel better. I was trying to get my life right, to stop wasting money on smokes, on too many snacks. That I lost so much weight that my knee wasn't hurting anymore, or my back. My feet hurt less at work, so I could work more. To have a child, to settle down. I only pursued that promotion for that reason. I honestly don't know what to say anymore, maybe posting will help me feel better. If so I'll write more of his memory than emotional rambling. The photo is the last one I ever took this him when we went bowling.
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