A life

Some things don't get easier.  Some pain doesn't fade.  Everyone says it is a process; everyone says it will get better in time.  Intellectually I suppose I know that it might, but I truly think that it is just about getting used to a meaningless life.

Nobody asks how I am.  If I offer information, people offer sympathy.  They say I'm strong, courageous, graceful.  I don't want sympathy, I want a life.  I want someone to know me.

My own family never asks how I am.  They never talk about Brian.  His birthday passed, our anniversary passed, and they say nothing - like he never existed.  My parents forgot that this weekend is the anniversary of his death.

I have never felt quite so alone.  I don't feel depressed - I feel destroyed.  Broken beyond repair.  I don't want to get used to this.  Nothing about this is OK.  Nothing about this existence as my life is acceptable.  Nothing about Brian's death is comprehensible.

I don't want platitudes.  I don't want pep talks.  I don't want advice.  I want a life, and if I can't have that, I'll settle for death.