June 10th, 1989
The reality of no Ben is hitting me hard and I don’t like it. I just reread some of my previous diary entries and if I didn’t know me I’d be cheering at this point but to me it doesn’t feel at all like that. I still love him and still want to be with him.
I got home first thing this morning and was thankful everyone was still in bed. I really don’t want to share anything that happened. Not yet. I’m too scared about how I might react when I start saying the words.
When I woke up, I heard laughter coming from the kitchen and when I heard Granda’s voice I wasted no time going downstairs. Mum, dad and Granda were sitting around the table. Granda had his back to me so I put my arms around him.
“Hello Granda,” I said and kissed his cheek.
“Oh it’s yerself hen,” he said, turning and smiling. “You’re looking well.”
“And you never seem to age.”
“I’ll be eighty-four next month.”
“That’s amazing. What’s your secret?” I asked, sitting beside him.
“I might be wrong,” he said with a wink, “but it might be the whisky.”
For the remainder of the day, we sat in the garden and when dad asked how Ben was, I said he was fine and promptly changed the subject. Mum gave me a questioning look but I smiled my biggest smile and I think it worked.
Not surprisingly I declined the offer to go to H & M’s for dinner but only because I tried so hard to hold it together today and knew I couldn’t do it for much longer. No sooner were mum, dad and Granda out the door when I came up to my room and let the tears come. That was three hours ago and I can’t seem to stop. It really does feel absolutely terrible, I don’t even know what else to say about it. I know I can’t force Ben to be with me if he doesn’t want to be, but how do I just turn off everything I feel for him and carry on without him?