still here

i'm still out here.

me and my Furry Beloveds.

we live and i work for us.

our home is tiny and it works for us.

our lives are very small, and that, too, works for us.

7 years, 8 months.

my rings are still on and i make no apologies.

i am still "in love" with him.

when a great many others i have "met" online

have moved into relationships,

i am still "married."

 

i'm not ready.

i may never be ready,

and i make no apologies.

 

i am through having people compare me to some random

grief step-by-step guide of where i should be.

 

i am where i am.

i live how i live and it hurts no one.

not even me.

 

i still grieve.

i still love him.

i am fine.

 

i am still out here.

hitting a wall

it has been seven + years since he died.  seven years without someone to talk to.

he listened to me.

listened.  it's an important word. 

he listened to what i had to say.  he asked questions.  he made sure he understood what i had to say, what i was feeling, the moods i was in.  he let me talk.

and i listened to him.  i heard what he said and what he didn't say.

we were in each others heads as well as in each others hearts. 

i miss that.  i miss it so much.  it's been so long since i have had him here to talk to.  to feel understood.  to feel heard.

so much has changed.  so many things have happened.  i wish i could talk to him.  i need him so badly.

i am so very tired.  tired in that i could use a week of sleep, but also just life tired.

the world is turning terrible.  i do not like people at all anymore.

there are people that i wish would just stop talking.  they are psychopaths.  they know they are hurting people and they do not care.  it is their belief that they and their agenda matter and everyone else can go away.  but that's what the definition of a psychopath is.

i wish i could shut the world out.  live on a secluded beach and let the world go to Hell around me. but i'll just be there alone, somehow.  someway.

i work a lot.  55 + hours a week.  i am physically exhausted.

i have a lot of chores to do at home that i am so tired yet need to do.

i have so many thoughts i wish to express but i do not trust anyone.  i need him.

physical pain is daily.  both arms with tennis elbow.  my right foot has a hairline fracture.  my left hand has a hairline fracture as well.  my right foot has Achilles tendinitis.  it's been 2 years for the tennis elbow.  3 months for the foot fracture.  10 months for the Achilles tendinitis. and only a week for the fracture in my hand.

i just hurt every day.  and i wish he were here.

i feel like i might explode.  i cry at home a lot.  just break down and sob. 

7 years without someone on my side. 7 years without someone to look for me, wait for me, talk to me, listen to me, sleep next to me.

7 years without my Dragon.

i've hit a wall.  and i'm depresssed.

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.