The world is upside down and backwards. I am in a bubble surrounded by a haze. I don’t want to push it. Reality will seep in and take over.
I am sure I will wake up and find that this is a cruel joke. You will walk by and say “Hi Sweetie Pie,” and I will say “Oh Bob” and laugh.
Instead I cry every night. As the the days grow shorter your lack of presence is more pervasive. Pain slips in easily behind the darkness at the day’s end. And when I think I am done crying I start again.
My emotions rule me. I am not in control. Today I had to go to a hospital. I walked through the doors and my heart was pounding. My breathing erratic. I realized it was the first time I had been in a hospital since I left you there.
“This isn’t the way it was supposed to be.” That’s what the grieving always say. Now I understand what it means. There is no normal. Routine is gone. This isn’t reality just a cruel joke; a horrible nightmare. When will I wake up? I bounce back and forth. I am so tired. It is easier to allow my emotions to control me. I can’t control them. I give in to the sadness because fighting it is just too hard.
I am so afraid to continue this journey called life without you. I am strong, but am I strong enough to go on without you? Most days I feel like a leaf being pushed around by invisible air, never touching the ground, just brushing past it. Push and pull and toss me around. I am not grounded without you.
I don’t know if these words will help me through this. I would rather believe that you will be here with me when I wake up. We will know that every moment is precious. We will be comfortable in our silence as we were.
But now the silence is forever. Your voice is in my mind but not my ears. The bubble is starting to fall apart. There are small cracks as pain seeps in and the haze that was my buffer is pushed aside by the knowledge that this is not a dream no matter how much I wish it was.
I know that I will need to face reality that you aren’t coming back, but I can’t do that right now. Not yet.