Lipstick

Yes, I love makeup.   I love talking about it, looking at it, shopping for it, reading about it, watching videos where other people talk about it and apply it.    Some may say I have a problem.   It rarely interferes with me living my life, so let's just put that part aside, shall we?

All the time I was with my dear sweet RDB, he never liked me to wear lipstick.  At the time, I wasn't really into it anyway, so it was not a major issue.   His reasoning was that he might want to kiss me at any moment, and he didn't want to come away with any of that on his lips, thank you very much.    I thought that was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard, so I happy complied.

But I've discovered something these past few months.

I LIKE lipstick.   I like the way it finishes off my face.   Completes the look.   I opt for the liquid lipstick that dries matte and doesn't migrate off my lips.   I even, on occasion, wear RED lipstick.

At first I felt like I was doing something wrong.   Going against something he asked me not to do.   I almost felt guilty.   Like I'd get caught.

But as I kept on wearing it and buying it, I realized it was all right.   I look nice.   It's something I'm not doing to be rebellious or to say "screw you", but something just for me.   Because I like it.

And that would make him happy.    I'm sure it does.

It's really not about the lipstick.   It's about me finding myself.  My way.   Continuing to live my life, find the joy and seek it out.  Seize it.   

Just don't buy all the lipstick.

Loss

Loss is part of life.  To love and to lose.   I have all these profound thoughts of loving someone and losing them unexpectedly. 

Mostly I'm mad.    He died today.   I was there yesterday.   I didn't know it was going to go down like that.    We had plans.  Things to be done, places to be visited.   He was smart and wise and funny and caring and so amazing.  Sensitive.   Thoughtful.  Pushy when he had to be.   When I needed it.   He brought out the best in me.  Away from the fear and anxiety.  From the anger and depression. 

I don't know what I shall do.   I don't have to make any decisions right now.   But to look forward without him is to feel that pain deep inside.   I don't want to do anything right now.  

I know tomorrow isn't promised.   But I feel like I've got the message now, do I need to keep being reminded?

I'm fortunate to have loved and been loved in return.   But I'm still mad.   I wanted more.   More time, more kisses and hugs, and hand-holding.   And all that smooshy stuff.   And talking.  And cards to send.   Gifts to buy.   All of it.   doing dishes and having him put them away in the wrong places.   Having him fix things that break around here.  Picking up his clothes off the floor.  All of it.  I want it back.