Fun is like a drug, now. In grief, at least, fun comes with a hangover. If I have fun for a few hours, or - puh-rayz jeezus! - a few days, I find the hangover is proportional. Like an addiction, grief is always in the background of fun, and afterward, I crash.
I used to feel guilt, but now I just wish my wife was here so she could do a bump of the fun with me. I can't count the number of times I've thought "She woulda loved this." But I guess that means I also can't count the number of times I've had fun since she died as well. Now there's an idea. It's been just short of 7 months now. And I've created new good memories already? Plural? That can't be right.
Although, that's the nature of a drug. It forces you to feel something, regardless of outside circumstances. I wouldn't pursue having fun if it didn't feel fun. I sometimes feel like my wife and I OD'd on fun. We had so much of it while she was alive, it almost felt like more fun than a couple deserved to have. Maybe the point, for me, is to find out if I'm truly a fun junky - if I can get back the buzz that life used to have for me with her. Can I do it? Sometimes I feel pretty damn fun-sober. I'm gonna have to hit some more fun and find out.
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