I didn't realize that it had been almost 6 months since I have written here. I do not have a good sense of time any more - neither days and nights, nor weeks and months. Hours turn to hours ... and all find a way to run together.
"It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to" - sigh.
I am so tired of being alone.
Rick was diagnosed with diabetes in 1995. He worked in sales (long hours away from home). Then he went back to driving a truck (even more long hours from home). As the years went by he became increasingly angry - about the cards he had been dealt and the changes he had to make. To some extent he blamed me. He also knew that I would always love him - I was his safe place. So I bore the brunt of his anger - verbally, and in his moodiness silences.
Not to say that we didn't have good times in those years - we did! Many of them.
In the last 5 years of his life he spent more and more time either watching TV, or with earbuds in listening to music. And I spent more and more time alone - if not alone in the house, alone in life. (Does that even make sense?)
And now 2 years after his death. I am so tired of being alone.
Alone even when I am with others. My heart is alone.
My heart aches so much to be loved - but even more to love someone.
It's hard for me to imagine anyone wanting me - I see my flaws, I know my shortcomings. But I also know my value and my worth. And I keep telling myself that I am good for something - not sure what, or to whom. But surely, I am - otherwise, why am I still here?
Today my hope wanes a bit, the weakness of crying in the night overtakes me, and the future seems so daunting to my thoughts.
So for the rest of this day - I will just breathe.
One moment at a time.
Get thru this day and maybe the hope will be strengthened, perhaps tomorrow will bring a fresh breath.
So why "Scattered Feathers" ? ? ?
You can read it here