how did i get here?

my husband, my beautiful Dragon, died suddenly at 12:03 AM on 9 February 2009. there was a cold, lovely full moon and 3 feet of snow on the ground. i "slept" for the following 10 months and "woke" to the physical and emotional pain and torments of deep grief. i "woke" to find i had moved the day of his funeral and that i am lost. i am looking for me while i figure out the abstract, unanswerable questions that follow behind any death. my art has evolved. his death changed that as well because i am forever changed and will forever bear the mark of losing the only man i can ever love.
there is alive and there is dead and there is a place in between. i am here wholly in my heart for my children, but i feel empty inside at this time. i miss him. i have not gotten very far in my grief journey. i make no apologies for this.
this is my place, my blog, where i write to tell the universe that i am still here.

Sunday, January 17, 2016

the feelings of the persistent griever

it's about to be 7 years.  February 9th will mark 7 years that we have been apart.

what do i do with that?

i am in pain over it and i do not tell anyone. 

i am shooting for numb.  i wish to be numb.

most of the time i shut myself down and get on with my days, my life, work, taking care of the myriad of things that make up every day of a person's life.  i pay bills.  i take care of the car.  i walk my dogs and snuggle with them.  i tell them things i would never even type here.  and they listen.

they know.

i would like to go numb.   just for a while.  just not feel.  anything.  no hurt.  no sadness.  no longing.  no loneliness.

while i am at work i can disappear behind the job.  but when i am home....alone...and am getting ready for bed....i miss him.

7 years.

i do not think of dating.  i do not want another.  still.  do.  not.  i do not want to try.  i do not.  i am emphatic.  {thinking of it, putting myself in the idea of dating, makes me queasy.}  so i know i am not ready and doubt i ever will be.

queasy is a strong word.

i would like him back, please.  he knew me.  he would smile, and smile more with his eyes when he looked at me, and finish my sentences.

i could quietly tell him my most secret secrets. and he would understand.  he would laugh.  he would encourage.  he would cry with me.  he was empathetic.  he was mine and i was his.

i miss him.

i always will.

i accept that.

i just wouldn't mind a few days of being numb.  you know.  to just get a little consistent sleep without the sad, bad dream.

such are the thoughts and feelings of the persistent griever.