The Cruelest Month

Discussion in 'Relationships, Discrimination, and Jealousy' started by Bbucko, Apr 15, 2011.

  1. Bbucko

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    April 17 will mark the seventeenth year of the death of my French lover, Jean-Marc Jarrouse. He was 34.

    Every year since 1992 my chest is reopened and the old wound is re-exposed, toyed with and made to bleed again as if it were only yesterday. The more I try to ignore it, the worse it feels, but in acknowledging it I find no peace either. So it simply is.

    I had loved greatly before we met in a bar in Spain in 1990 and fell in love on the beach, but never enough to disavow my previous life. I have loved since but never with that part of my soul reserved for his consumption exclusively. I hope to love again some day and offer a similar, but different piece of my heart because I know I am still capable of such things, although I've avoided it out of fear of pain and other issues that have since cloaked me to one degree or another; I am optimistic about the future. But my mid-April horror comes without fail and derails me for a short time, and I'm grateful that I can take some time to deal with it alone, and privately.

    Jean-Marc was beautiful, intelligent, funny, indescribably generous and capable of the deepest love. He was also a habitual liar, mercurial and exacting, occasionally cruel. He had more demons than anyone I've ever met, and I became intimately acquainted with them all.

    If the utter pathos of his death occasionally obscures the real man inside, it is never for long. The parts of my brain that hold memories of those two years we had together never stills. And his shade has never left me, even if sometimes it feels that way. I must say that he makes a shitty guardian angel, but that was never his responsibility to me so I cannot complain, not really.

    Writing about him is indescribably hard, especially if I want to write about him truthfully. But when I first found my sea-legs as a writer I was able to grind out five chapters and posted them on The Spin Cycle. I started the first chapter with a short quote from a Jacques Brel song:

    On n'oublie rien de rien
    On s'habitue, c'est tout


    We forget nothing of anything
    We just get used to it [habituate ourselves], that's all

    These are links to the story, for those who want to read them:

    The Spin Cycle: Titpig's Frustration, or Sitges Part 1

    The Spin Cycle: Titpig's Satisfaction, or Sitges Pt 2

    The Spin Cycle: Jean-Marc Came To Boston And All He Got Was This Crummy T-Shirt, Part 1 (Chapter 3)

    The Spin Cycle: Jean-Marc Came To Boston And All He Got Was This Crummy T-Shirt, Part 2 (Chapter 4)

    The Spin Cycle: Bienvenue A Paris, Part 1 (Chapter 5)

    And here's a little song written by Serge Gainsbourg and sung by the inimitable Juliette Greco:

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ADNhW0Rj5js

    The chorus's final line goes "We loved each other for the time of one [single] song". We only had two years.
     
  2. D_Rosalind Mussell

    D_Rosalind Mussell New Member

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    I'm so sorry to read about this, Bbucko. I know I don't know exactly how you feel, but I have a similar cruel month on my calendar as well. I absolutely deplore July because it reminds me of when someone I loved intimately committed suicide. Eighteen years have gone by and it only started getting better a year ago. Before that I was always a wreck and would go into a depression while reliving it all inside. I hope you can find ways to navigate this, although I know how impossible it can be. I really don't know what else to say, except for Godspeed to this month for you. *hugs*
     
  3. nudeyorker

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    Bb I'm sorry; I'll be thinking about you. Someone I loved very much died on 20 April and it's the same every year for me too. I talked about it with a therapist once and he told me I was not supposed to get over it and I was entitled to my feelings.
    The day never gets any easier for me but I've learned not to disappear into an abyss of despair and instead spend some quiet time remembering him and the joy we shared when we were footloose and fancy free.
    PS I'll look forward to reading your accounts of him.
     
  4. DavidXL

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    I read the first 5 chapters and hoped there would be a sixth. Perhaps because of the sexy, dark-haired French lover you know up front is going to die, it reminded me of Edmund White's "The Married Man," a novel that really moved me.

    Sorry for your loss. Sorry that a handsome man like J-M died so young. You are a strong writer.
     
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