I’m not good at talking, I can’t find the words to say when we sit face to face, probably because I’ll crumble, maybe I fear the reaction, maybe I fear judgement, I don’t know, but I can write. I can write because I can spew, no reactions, and then, I can walk away and be done with it. There is so much of this that can’t be fixed, nothing that anyone can do or say can fix this. I have to work through it on my own. Im angry, everything hurts, everything. Just breathing somedays hurts because I can’t understand why it had to be him and not me. We talked about this, we talked about how I thought he would be stronger than me, and he could live without me, but I could never live without him, and yet, here I am without him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Simple everyday things were not supposed to feel like this.
The list of things I currently hate includes, but is not limited to;
Restaurants we have been at together
Restaurants we have never been at together
Driving his truck
Not driving his truck
Having his things in the house
Not having his things in the house
Living in the house
Thinking about NOT living in the house
The fact that he is soooooo loved
How prepared he was for this
Sleeping
Not Sleeping
Not being able to have stupid arguments
The fact that we EVER had stupid arguments
Hearing songs that remind me of him, or special moments
Bonfires
The VA
Putting things in JUST my name
Kids activities, this week Dads and doughnuts, we avoided it.
Math- that was his deal, and I am not smart enough to help my kids.
Going to Church
Not Going to Church
Meeting People who will never know him
Working
Not Working
Hanging out with couples without him
Traveling
Not Traveling
Leaving my kids for even 5 minutes
Not being able to leave my kids
Being far from my siblings
The list is not all inclusive, but that should give you an idea of the plethora of emotions I go through on a daily basis just trying to get through every day tasks.
The one thing though, that I hate more than anything else in the whole world right now is the fact that he knew the real me, the me I am so good at hiding, the me that is not as well put together as you all see. He held that together because when I fell apart he picked me up, he he was my punching bag, my voice of reason, my everything. I keep people at arms distance so I don’t have to let them in, I’m really good at that, always have been, I let him in, and now I’m here, without him, and I don’t know which way is up.
Spoiler Alert; this happened, we are here, and now I’m stuck.
