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In my last actual conversation with Joe, voice to voice on the phone, I was not loving towards him. I was actually frustrated with him because he forgot something that was important to me that he remember (this had nothing to do with our anniversary by the way........I just want to make that clear since I was coming home from camp to be with him for our anniversary). What I was frustrated about was just an everyday life sort of thing that doesn't mean anything in the scheme of things. We all get frustrated with people we love and live with. It just sucks that it was our last conversation on the phone though.

Joe had this way of talking to me when I was being unreasonable or short with him for my own reasons. He didn't act like a jerk (which he would have been justified for in some cases), instead he took on the attitude of "hey, what is up with you...you're going to talk to me whether you like it or not" mixed together with a slight twinge of playfulness. It's so hard to describe, but I guess the underlying sentiment of it is that he didn't take life so seriously, definitely not as seriously as me. And he knew me well enough to to know lots of times my moods were all about me and rarely about him.

That was his tone with me during our last conversation by phone.

We did email each other when I got home that day and all was normal and fine (no frustrations between us). His last email to me at 4pm was about how much fun we were going to have together that night, July 25, 2007. Ironic, since of course it turned out to be the most horrifyingly awful night of my life.

Although I wish our last conversation by phone were different, I honestly have never lingered too long on it or felt it in any way as a deep regret. The reason for that is that Joe and I had many, many loving and meaningful exchanges and they made up the majority of our life together. For every time I was an unreasonable bi#$ch to him, there are a hundred times when I did or said something nice and loving and uplifting to him/for him.

One of the most comforting feelings that I have is that I do not look back and wish I said X or Y or Z in terms of our love. I loved him, and he knew it. He loved me. And I knew it. We were specific with each other on the reasons why, and that made all the difference. Voicing the specifics is what changes "love" from a feeling to a fact. And when someone is not alive anymore, we are forced to deal in facts.

That is not to say I don't wish that I didn't do some things differently.
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