Time

Time has lost all meaning.  Since he's been gone, I have no concept of time.  The days march on and I seem to accomplish nothing.  The nights are long and sleepless.

I get up, I go to work.   The rest of my time seems to be consumed with tears and cleaning up pee.  I walk the dog.  I clean the litter box.  I clean up pee from the floor.  I feed the pets.  I forget to feed myself.  I sometimes get laundry done.  I pay the bills.  That's it.  That's my life.  Work, Pee, Tears, and Bills - not necessarily in that order.

It's already September.  He's gone almost 5 months.  I can't stand to think of the future.  Things look so bleak.  I'm not living - I'm surviving.  I hate this existence.   My life feels so empty.

I know what he wanted for me.  We talked about it.  He wanted me to be happy.  He wanted me to enjoy life.  He wanted me to live each day for both of us.  I feel like a failure.  I'm just not able to do that yet.  He knew me so well - better than I know myself - and he knew that it would take time, years, for me to get there.   I don't know if I ever will.  It is too much to ask that I be happy.  It is all I can do to just survive day my day.

Today is September 11th.  A horrible day in our history.  Before this year, I remembered 9-11 as the worst day of my life.  The day when the world that I lived in changed forever.  My sadness on that day was overwhelming.  But now things are even more bleak.  This loss is mine alone to bear.  This pain has engulfed me.  When my husband died, we both lost our lives, and I don't know how to build a new one without him.