Tomorrow will be one year since Brian died, but he died on a Saturday morning, so today felt awful. I went to synagogue and said Kaddish and cried and, like every week when I say Kaddish and cry, the congregation was wonderful, loving and comforting.
Still, I feel pain - emotional, spiritual and physical - and I want it to stop. I want to feel something else, to be someone else, to take a vacation from being me. I want to get drunk or stoned. I want to have a one night stand with a stranger who I'll never see again. I want to act out and not be me; to feel good and desirable and to have fun in the process. But, of course, I won't. That isn't me and it won't work. I wouldn't feel good. I'd feel cheap and stupid and flawed.
There is no way around this pain. I just have to live through it. To feel it, to hurt, and to figure out how to come through to the other side and be relatively whole. Drugs, wine, and sex can't change what I feel. They won't make me happy, they won't make me beautiful, they won't make me desirable - they'll only make me feel more alienated from myself. More pathetic.
I miss my husband. How can it be a year since I held him in my arms as he took his last breath? How can it be so long since I was me?
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