I started journaling a little, writing things down as I think need be, but I truly can get things out quicker and more understandably when its types. ((Baby crying)). Who else will be getting up with them at night? Oh yea, no one. Just me. Why? Because you're gone. And the worst part about you being gone is that if you had a choice, you would be here. If you had a choice, you never would have left in the first place. I didn't choose a dead beat, cheating lier of a father or husband. No, I found a truly trustworthy, loving, will walk a million miles for his family type of man. The one I was supposed to raise our children with, build a home, create this loving environment and grow old together, Take this journey of life together. And instead, you are gone. In a place I am trying to deeply understand because while I am lost and confused, we have a three year old son who doesn't understand either. The pain is unimaginable.
I am sick that this has now become my story. I am the widow that people talk about. Our boys are the boys that lost their dad and never really knew him. Its a sick life that no one should ever experience. But we do, for I have found women in my position, searching for an answer that we know will never be answered. "When does this get better?" "When will I feel normal again?" "When will I see him again?" "Do you feel him?"...the questions are endless. Yet all we seem to come up with for one another is "time and grieving is different for everyone." Which is not what we want to hear.
This is our first night home in this house with your mom or Jessica sleeping in the other room. The worst part is hearing noises and I cant blame them on you and feel better about it. Also, Im sitting in bed and you are not working in the garage and then coming to bed. I cant go out there and tell you the time and beg you to come to bed and then have you beg me to sit in the garage with you. I should have some to hang with you, every time. I have a wall up, its blocking out the truth and reality of our future and what it has become. I want you home. I want to hug your chest after you have gotten out of the shower. I want to kick your foot at night. I am sleeping on your side of the bed, closest to the door, shocking I know, only because if I sleep on the other side, Im afraid I will be reaching over to this side for you. Single mom is not what I wanted. Not at all. I know most single moms don't choose that life, but ours is different, WE didn't choose this. Part of me is strong and capable of saying that I will do everything I need to do to raise these children and we will get through this. ANother part of me wants to just say screw it all and beg for prophecy to be fulfilled and see you again, for eternity. My heart aches for that.
I love you
- Berna
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