I really don’t want to be Eliza

We finally got around to watching Hamilton tonight. If you’ll remember, we had splurged big-time on tickets to go see the play. But it ended up being rescheduled for January 2022 and we decided to just get our money back instead, which ended up being a good thing because we discovered that the cats had irreparably damaged the underside of our mattress shortly thereafter. But I ended up being very glad that we didn’t go see it the first time in person.

Spoilers ahoy for anyone who hasn’t seen it and might (if we weren’t the last people to watch it)

If you’re unfamiliar with the story, Hamilton dies by gunshot in the last 1/4 of the show. I knew a lot about the show going into it, including that he died. But nothing could have prepared me for the last song and that’s what made me very glad I didn’t see it in the theatre. I broke out into a full-on ugly cry that I couldn’t seem to stop.

The last song is Hamilton’s widow Eliza singing about how she had what he always wanted: more time. And how she tried to keep his memory alive through stories of him and to make his life worth something. My god, how that broke my heart, totally gutted me, comparing it to my own situation. Whether my husband’s still here for 2 years or 20, I’m always going to have more time than he does. And that just feels so cruel and so heartbreakingly unfair.

I don’t know how to make it without him, and not just in the financial sense. I’m working on trying to develop new plans to make it financially without him but so far my plans are very slow to get off the ground. I keep getting frustrated by every effort and it’s so hard not to give up because it’s so difficult.

But it’s much more than that. We’ve both always said that being without each other would be like losing a limb. And now I know for sure that I’ll have to experience that and that I’ll have to learn how to live with such a significant part of me missing.

Dammit, he should still be here until we both grow old together. We’ve practically grown up together since we got together so young. He’s always seemed more drawn to tragic romances but this is not how I ever thought we’d end up.

I don’t want to be Eliza, mourning my husband for the rest of my days. But I can’t see any alternative from where I’m sitting now. I don’t want to find love again—I want him to be here.

I’ve been holding back these feelings throughout the whole pandemic. I didn’t let myself feel them and I didn’t cry once before today. But perhaps that was a mistake. I haven’t had a really ugly cry in months, even though the loss of a spouse is one of the greatest stresses you can experience.

I just really didn’t want to be going through this, especially when he’s so young. He’s such a good man to everyone, even people he doesn’t particularly like. I’m going to tell his stories to keep his memory alive. But the fact still remains that it shouldn’t have to be this way.

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