I left Ann Arbor on Sunday with two profound feelings. Or beliefs. Or realizations, or somethings. Two things were prominently on my mind as I drove back home. Today I’m going to talk about the first one.
I’ve had this sense building in me for some time, but last weekend it was solidified into a reality. Here goes: I am now solidly in my new life. I’m not the same person I was before Kellie died, and my life has changed in such profound ways, so it doesn’t feel like a continuation of the same life I had before. I’m also never going to be confident with the idea that my former life has evolved into this that I have now. Because that strongly implies that Kellie’s death made me stronger or gave me experiences that have led me to this great new place. And I don’t believe that.
It’s much easier for me to feel like this: My former life is in my left hand. I can look down at it anytime. It’s in my hand, after all. It’s right there! All of my grief and bitterness and sorrow are all parts of that life. So are all the incredible things that I had, and built, and did, and shared, with Kellie and my family and friends in my life prior to this event. My entire life up until this April is in my left hand.
My new life is in my right hand, then. It’s right here too, at the end of my right arm. I can look at it and examine it and ponder it. I’m starting fresh in this life with a lot of things. I’m having to learn stuff and unlearn stuff and build a stable support network and work and play with the dogs in this life. It’s a lot! But I’m also going on trips to Ann Arbor and Buffalo and DC and I’m attending concerts and hanging out in bookstores. I’m painting and reading and playing games and laughing and smiling an awful lot, sometimes. I’m also crying and sad and lonely, but less than when this life started seven months ago.
If I’m able to conceptualize my old life and my new one as being separated in that way, it lets me give them both the energy and respect and time and care that they need. But it’s definitely two separate lives, two separate versions of me, and this weekend in Ann Arbor was the first time I’ve been able to experience that so clearly.
If I’m determined to have this new life just be another chapter of the same book, it feels too connected to that past version of me and who I was before. It needs to be an entirely new book, I think. Both books are allowed to be on the shelf of my soul next to each other. They’re both me and they’re both lives I’ve led. But I’m now in an entirely different life, and this weekend was the first time that clearly snapped into place in my mind and body.
I know that this life and my former life have to be entirely different lives, because the two of them could never possibly have co-existed. I would never have visited Margot and everyone else in Ann Arbor in November of 2026 if Kellie were still here and if I was that same person I was back in early April of this year. I had too many things on my mind and my plate, and Kellie was always going to be my priority, along with our life together. But this new me is capable of some pretty startling things, I am discovering, and I get surprised all the time at what I can do if I feel like it. It’s a good feeling. I’m strong, I’m independent when I have to be, and I’m also far more interdependent on a larger group of folks than I’ve ever been before.
I’m doing okay! I’m living life (the new one) and mourning Kellie (and my old life) at the same time, and that’s been a lot more tangible and a lot more possible as a reality for me since late last week. What a gift to be given, and I’m grabbing hold of it with both hands.
I’m looking forward to seeing where my life—this life—takes me. Who knows? I’m confident that I’ll keep prioritizing my community and my profession and also my family and friends. I’m confident that I’ll keep living in this house and working at my dream job(s). I’m certain that I’ll never have another partner (this version of me only has platonic relationships). But just about anything else is pretty up in the air at this point, and that finally feels like an actual breath of fresh air right now rather than a hypothetical one.
Have a wonderful Tuesday,
Matt