Once in a while the flood gates will open. Like my tears have been held in a dam that finally bursts and all at once has a never ending supply. I'll walk around the empty house looking at things, trying to remember the memory that goes with them. I'll pick up the blanket that I refuse to wash that he was covered with the day he passed away and just hold it. Wishing he would just talk to me one more time. I think of things I should have said or did. I get so angry for letting myself show the weariness I felt. Like if I had just hidden it better he might not have felt like he had to let go.
Most days I'm ok. Most days I am thankful for all that we have. I have a beautiful daughter and will be able to continue to take care of her. I have family and friends who keep me going. And I promised to do more with my life than just settle into something comfortable and easy. In two days it will have been a month. 4 weeks. I have been in this fog for 4 weeks. No matter what you think, being prepared for it doesn't make it any easier. There is never enough time. There are always things left unsaid and undone.
Videos and pictures make me question the reality of it. He was just here. He was alive and we had a life. A perfect life. Everything was set for a wonderful future. There were plans and dreams and things to do. And now he's just gone? I sat there. I watched. I held his hand. I kissed his lips and his forehead and watched his pulse stop. I screamed like it would bring him back. Like I could call him back into his body and tell him I'm not ready to let go yet. I sat for 5 hours with him until they came to get the body that was left. Now I just stare at that chair in the living room that I always had to have so perfect. I remember buying the chair because we could both fit in it together and watch tv. Sometimes I feel like there should be a rope across the entry like a museum because I am barely able to set foot in the room.
I don't know how to do without a man who was so perfect for me in every way, that no one will ever measure up to, whom I was lucky enough to have. There are only distractions to get through every day, but in the quiet moments I just want to feel him again. There will never be any substitute or anything comparable to someone who loved me so completely and honestly. I never had to beg him to love me, to choose me, to put me before anything or anyone else. He chose to do that. And I in turn did that for him. To be this young, having to let go of that once in a life time occurrence is something I will never get over.
