Part III: Is It Better To Have Loved And Lost Than To Never Have Loved At All?

Time moved slowly as we waited for Mark to be found. It took about 10 days for Search and Rescue to find him. Funny thing is, his body was discovered in the very spot the where accident occurred. His best friend Jerry accompanied the rescue team in the helicopter, they flew over the lake and Jerry pointed to where he thought they were that night. A diver jumped out, swam to the bottom and found Mark’s body – or pieces of.

I was curious as to why it was a closed casket funeral and asked Mark’s Mother. 

What’s he wearing in there? I was picturing him in a blue suit with his sweet curly blond hair, hands folded, shiny black shoes.

I’ll never forget her exact words.

Oh honey, since you asked, I’m going to tell you the truth…he’s not wearing any clothes. He wasn’t found in one piece, so we gathered him up and wrapped him in a shroud.

I’ll never forget the horror and disappointment I felt. I guess she needed to get that off of her chest, but I really wish she hadn’t told me that.

Later I found out that Mark wasn’t in one piece because the on-coming boat that had Mark’s fate sealed in his future had struck Mark smack dab in the middle of his chest, killed him instantly and launched him into the water. At least he didn’t die in a panic, drowning and in pain. But wow, the thought of his body not being in one piece really disturbed me. It still does. At the time I was thinking, “What do you mean he’s not in one piece? Is he missing a thumb or an entire ARM? Is his head in there? Are all his toes still attached to his feet? What?”  I couldn’t bear to ask though. Best to just let it go. 

I spoke the eulogy. I proclaimed my love for Mark and how I had planned on marrying him and having his children, which is odd since we were broken up and the last time I spoke to him I was a complete bitch. I made myself into a victim who lost her one and only true love, which I knew deep down wasn’t completely true. Absolutely did I lose one of my soul mates and positively was I torn to pieces over his death, but I was also beefing up my pain to torture myself for being mean to him a few weeks prior. Of course, I didn’t know I was doing that at the time. I discovered all this in therapy 10 years later, and what a painful revelation that was to finally figure out that I had punished myself for so long. 

I subconsciously blamed myself for his death. Maybe if I wasn’t so cruel to him on the phone that night, he would have stayed in town to win me back. 

Mark's sister, Melanie, told me that they had met up for lunch before he left town. He explained to Melaine that he was embarrassed for drunk dialing me late that night, but  he still loved me and knew I was the one for him.  He wanted to marry me. She advised him to tell me all of this when he returns from Lake Havasu.  He agreed to that.

It’s a nice feeling knowing that he died loving me and that maybe I was on his mind if he had any time to reflect before he passed on, but I was left with unsettled, remorseful feelings which I subconsciously covered up by spending the next 10 years never letting myself fall for another man. I decided early on that I’ll most likely never get married and have children. I sabotaged every relationship and chose to date guys who were clearly not right for me. I searched and searched for a Mark replacement. Someone I could have that romantic, sweeping, sugary, incredibly unrealistic puppy love with and every time I thought I found it, it would fizz out very quickly and I’d end up in a heaping crying mess eating a pint of ice cream.  

I was in therapy for four years when I lived in New York. It took my therapist a long long time to convince me that I had been punishing myself.   

Punishing myself? For what??

 

You feel guilty that he died. It’s not your fault Theresa.

That’s insane, Dr. Simon. I know I didn’t kill Mark. Why would I think it’s my fault?

 

There were a few times that I tried to fire Dr. Simon. It pissed me off that he would not let this issue go. Luckily, he did not let me run away. He was holding the key to the truth and he was waiting for me to open that door.

This was the hardest thing I ever had to face, no wonder it took me so long to finally open my eyes and accept the truth: I put myself through hell, I never let myself move on,  the bottom line of my existence was sadness for nearly ten years. My love life was always in turmoil, I was pursing an acting career that repeatedly broke my heart, I was 15 pounds overweight, my insecurities were so terrible that I wouldn’t even let myself wear certain shoes or go to certain bars because I thought I wasn’t “cool” enough. I was a mess and this is why….

Stay tuned for Part IV...