2016-08-07 - 7:09 p.m.

Third Time's a Charm

I've started and stopped this entry twice. Not this entry..."an" entry. I just haven't felt like writing beyond the first few sentences which, once I type them, look like melodramatic crap so I erase them and walk away.

I'm drained and feeling sorry and lonely and, though I know it's not true, hopeless. I'm feeling crushed by pressures both real and imagined. I miss my husband painfully. I miss him SO awfully. I need him back. I didn't realize that the unconditional love he had for me was so vital to my existence. I guess I took it for granted, though I had craved it all my adult life. No, I didn't take it for granted. I knew it's value...I just ALSO knew that it was mine to keep for a long, long time.

After bailing out of this entry the last time earlier, I drew a bath, made a drink and soaked in Epsom salts and an essential oil called "Peace". I cried as quietly as I could (really good at that now) because my daughter had fallen asleep in my bed and was just feet away through a wall and open door. Either I've gotten very good at crying quietly or she is tired of comforting mama, when she knows she can't.

While in that tub, I wondered, what would really make me feel better...and realized that the only answer is: Mike. Not all the money, to remedy the myriad problems that cropped up and continue to crop up since his death...not a new man to sweep me off my feet because my heart is not available for that and besides, I look like hell...

I came to the realization that just Mike is the answer. If I could do it without giving someone the wrong idea or causing myself embarrassment, I'd find a big man...a Mike- sized man with big, strong hands, and I'd ask him to put his arms around me and hold me firmly to himself like Mike used to, and I'd pretend it was him. I really think that would help me. Actually, I'm pretty sure I'd have an immediate episode that would scar the helpful man and make him wish he'd never touched me...but it would feel so good to be able to just pretend for a minute that I had him again and could receive his comfortable touch. I miss it so much.

A lot of tiring, endless things have happened and continue to happen that I don't have the heart to write about. More and more stress, piling on in layers. More and more worry. Compounded grief...and a big helping of fear.

I am so tired of this.

�

�

previous - next