To Much, To Little, To Late…

Johnny Mathis and Deniece Williams I believe made up the duet that sang the song that I so blatantly rip off for this entry’s title.

This is how I feel right now.  While everyone else is celebrating the dumping of DOMA and the reversal of Prop 8.  I’m worried about whether or not I really need to send to the charity collection box a bag of Jon’s socks and t-shirts.

In my heart we were married.

In my heart I know that I would have walked down the isle for him.

Without him here to ask I can only assume that he too would do the same for me.  Having found contrary information on his computer I can only assume that he was feeling his age and was a bit bored.

He told me he loved me and looked me in the eyes while doing it.  He even would smile and squeeze my hand or brush my face as confirmation.  I would like to think he meant it.

Now that it looks like the state supported DOMAs are going to topple following actions by individuals in unison in the last remaining 32 states that sponsor discrimination.  It has come to late for me and my Jon.

I had to nervously await the thirty day period that “family” could petition and bond to be executor/administrator.  I nervously have to wait to see if anyone of interest wishes to challenge my claim.  I fear the loss of the house after having tried so hard to save it for us.  No that there is no one else to save it for…  except me.  I’m nearly tired of the effort.

The hospital and doctors will be clambering.  I have been told that I have no obligation.  I’m still afraid though, worried for naught?  Cautious.  I cannot explain why I feel obligated.  Other than, I felt married.

My concern, I guess it really boils down to – was I loved.

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