Some nights, sleep just won't come. It is like a momentary visitor that only stays an hour or two before waking me up and reminding me of my reality. I am then awake and I have to think about it. The pain comes in waves: sometimes small, bearable and bittersweet. And then there are times when the tears come like a sweet release and I feel like I'll survive this. Other times, it is so overwhelming that crying isn't even an option. Luckily, the latter is happening less and less frequently.
The memories are always there. Sometimes they are wonderful and make me laugh, other days, not so much. My mind still doesn't fully accept that he's gone and that he'll never hold me again or that I'll never hear his voice again. I want to be angry but I don't know who to blame for this. God??? That doesn't make sense considering we will all make the same transition someday and I had almost four wonderful years with him. Some people never get what we had so I cant' be upset about that. My Beloved??? For walking peacefully into the realm of the ancestors at his appointed time? He wasn't murdered, he just died and that's no one's fault. Myself??? Maybe if I'd been a better wife and looked after his health, he'd be here? He had no history of heart disease and was extremely healthy. He worked out and watched what he ate and I loved him and made sure he was happy. That was all I could do. So my anger and confusion have no place because I have all the rational answers.
But that doesnt' make them go away.
How do I do this? How can I be a widow when just a few months ago I was so happy? I am confused by all of this. Somedays, I am lost as to what I should be doing, so I do nothing. Other days, I remember that I have hopes and dreams and they are my saving grace. The day it happened, I wanted to die but I knew that I wouldn't. I knew that this was something that I had to walk through and I know that I'll survive but somedays...Let's just leave it at somedays.People say that I'm so strong but honestly, this ain't strength, this is my spirit's determination to survive. It's kind of like when someone's trying to smother you and you fight: pure instinct. Inside, I am hurt somewhere so deep that I can't explain it to anyone.
So, that's why I'm typing a blog at three o'clock in the morning because sleep has abandoned me and my memories are knocking at my door, demanding that I feel them. But I don't want memories, I want my husband back. And I'm not going to get him in this lifetime. So I sit here in bed and I cry and I remember against my will. Tomorrow will be another day and I'll continue on but tonight there is no comfort except these words on my computer screen that you'll read.