James was a huge gamer. For the most part, this was fine as my hobbies are time consuming and we both got to do what we loved to do. There were times over the years where I got a little upset by this, however, as I felt he paid more attention to whatever game he was into than he did to me. We ultimately resolved this by having two nights a week we made sure we spent together: Thursday and Sunday. We spent other time together, of course, but these were the days we made sure to keep clear.
At the time of his death, World of Warcraft was his game of choice. He had been introduced to it by his friend, who I jokingly referred to as Mistress Jay because if they were doing a huge raid (Saturdays were reserved for that), it was possible for him to talk to Jay more than me. After James died, Jay asked if he could still play James' character. I thought that was an awesome tribute-and a way to keep him alive-so naturally, I agreed.
I had my own character by this time. James had tried to involve me in his games over the years, but I just wasn't that interested and I had my own hobbies to attend to. He asked again one day and I said I wanted my character to be a cow-thinking that would get me off the hook. About 30 minutes later, Vandalia, my taurin hunter was created. (Her pet is named Joe. This will probably only make sense to my good friend from college). I also had a second character-an elf named Elfis because I thought (and still think) that was hilarious. I always did crack myself up. I miss that about myself.
When we set up my character, we set it up so my credit card was charged the semi-annual subscription fee. When Jay started to play James' character, he offered to pay for it, but I said I was okay to pay it and transferred James' account to my card as well. And I've really thought nothing of it since then. The first year was hard-his subscription renewed on his birthday; mine on what would have been our wedding day.
I tried to play a couple of times after James died but it just wasn't the same and more tearful than fun. So when I got my credit card bill this last time, I decided it was time to cancel my account. I decided that I would see if Jay was still playing James' character and if he was ask if he wanted to take over James' account or just let it go. And then something sort of clicked in the back of my mind so I looked back through my credit card statements and discovered that I haven't been billed for James' subscription for the last two years.
My first thought was that Jay took over paying it for me after all and I felt so bad it took me this long to discover it and never thanked him for it. I tried to send him an e-mail apologizing for not saying anything sooner but it bounced back. Ironically, it sat in the queue too long and therefore couldn't be delivered. I looked back through my e-mails to see if I missed one from him saying he was going to pay the account and didn't find one. I did find one asking if I had changed the password, however. And it's dated around the time James' subscription would have renewed in December 2008. So now I wonder if the people at Blizzard discovered he died and cancelled the account-his was in his name; mine was in my name.
I was a sobbing mess Tuesday night after this discovery. I cancelled my account on Wednesday, which wasn't easy to do. I feel so guilty that I didn't join James in playing sooner and that I didn't play more often. He was so happy when I finally did try to get into it and I can't take back that I didn't make more of an effort sooner.
At first, I was relieved to discover that either Jay took over the account or they cancelled it. The truth is that if it was left in my hands, I may never had done it as that was keeping a part of him alive. And then it hit me that the final piece of him that was still alive in my eyes is actually gone. That part has died too and I feel like I have lost him all over again. I feel like I am back to the early days in which every little thing makes me cry, and I feel so insecure. I feel so unworthy. I feel like I have run out of strength and I seriously don't know how in the Hell I am supposed to do this for the next 50 years. I know I will because I have no choice-I just don't know where I put my backup supply of strength.
I have been a sobbing mess all week and most of the weekend. It doesn't help that my friend jokingly called me a loser and as this isn't the first time he's done so, a part of me wonders if on some level he actually feels that way. It makes me wish I hadn't let my guard down and befriended him but that thought makes me feel very alone. But I also know that if I wasn't already feeling so defective and damaged-if I wasn't so mad at James for not only leaving me, but leaving me in such a way I feel no one else is going to want me, that comment wouldn't hurt as much as it did. I wouldn't have wanted to reply in such a way that would have cut him to the core and cost me a friendship that has been a blessing over the last couple of months (luckily, I was driving when I got the text and couldn't respond right away!). Even now, two days later, there is a part of me that just wants to not only push him out of my life but not let any more new people in either.
I keep posting about wanting to meet someone new-about not wanting to be alone for the rest of my life. I'm starting to rethink that. Yes, it's still true I don't want to be alone and I do feel much more alive when I have someone to share my life with, but I'm beginning to wonder if the risk of having to go through this much pain again is really worth falling in love again someday, or if I should just be thankful for having experienced a great love in my life and just let that be enough as I just bide my time through the rest of my life.
1 comment:
Hi Heather – I’m Andrea from the Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation (www.sslf.org). We are interested in adding your blog to the blog roll on the resource page of our website. Please email me at andrear@sslf.org to let me know the best way to contact you so we can discuss the possibility of adding your blog. Thank you so much!
Post a Comment