In bed, exhausted, shutters open out to the dark and white of the night the blackness of the sky against the white snow laden seascape. Black and White, like my thoughts, my life. I am either going to the mall with Max, having dinner, talking on the phone. From the outside it looks "normal" "ok" just an "average" life.
And then I stop, I go to bed, I rest my aching hips and it hits me......the reality of the loss, my loss, his loss, our loss. Are you as sick as reading this as I am of writing it? And yet I can't seem to get to that place where I remember being married to a wonderful man and am wistful, fondly thinking of him with a slightly crooked smile and perhaps one eye slightly brimmed with tears. The smile gets stronger and I have moved on.
I can't get there, I know what it looks like but I can't imagine ever actual implementation of that.
Instead I lie here staring out the window aching, missing, longing, yearning, thirsting, craving my husband.He is so larger than life by the vast hole he is left in my life, my heart and my mind.
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