Saturday, May 14, 2011

Embrace

Tonight is a sad and lonely night for me.  Today felt pretty ok for the most part.  It's just the night that I can't stand.  I still can't believe TJ is gone.  When I remember it in my heart, I feel sick to my stomach.  I have no idea how to keep doing this.  Every morning when I wake up I can't imagine how I'm going to face the day.  And every night I pray that I can sleep and sleep for ages.  I don't seem to have the nightmares of abandonment anymore.  But I don't dream about him.  It sucks.  I want so desperately to have him in any way that I can.  I fall asleep holding the arm hole of his long sleeved fleece.  Like we're holding hands.  It's obviously not the same, but it is comforting in a way.  I try to pretend that my face is cradled in his chest and that I am resting on him.  Tucked in for the night.  Nothing works.  I miss his touch in the worst way.  He had the best hands.  His hands were beautiful.  His nail beds were perfection.  I would hold his hand and just look at it.  Look at the size compared to mine.  Look at his skins darkest brown against my porcelain white.  They looked so good together.  While we held hands sometimes I would lift his to my lips and kiss his fingers.  He never minded.  I worshiped every part of him.  It just made sense to kiss his immaculate hands.  I told him how beautiful his hands were to me.  He never did tell me what he thought about when I said those kinds of things.  The smallest details would catch me.  The perfect symmetry of his eyebrows.  His long lashes any woman would die to have.  The slightest little dimple in his chin.  His ears were perfect, too.  Detached lobes.  I liked touching them gently between my thumb and index finger.  They were so smooth.

Nothing that I look at now compares how beautiful he was.  Nothing that I touch has the same warmth as he had in his hands.  Each embrace I encounter isn't quite right.  I hug often.  It's one of the things I like to do the most.  But no matter who I hug, it's not the same.  I don't expect it to be the same.  But it makes me wonder.  It makes me wonder how long it will take to be embraced and feel safe again.  Instead of wishing for more.  Wishing for TJ.  Always wishing for TJ. 

How did this happen to us?  I just don't understand.  We had such an amazing connection.  Such love.  Such passion.  Such joy.  And now it's gone.  All gone.  In an instant.  It's nights like these when I can't imagine being happy ever again.  How could I when I feel this bad?  This lonely?  This desperate?  I am in a constant state of unrest.  I just can't relax.  I can't breathe sometimes.  It catches in my throat.  Or feels like the wind gets knocked out of me with just a single thought.  A single image relived inside my head.  The morning TJ died.  The pain is crippling right now.  I can't even see out of my glasses.  They are entirely smeared with tears.  The salt from them fogs as it dries.  I'm glad I'm so familiar with "home row" or else I wouldn't be able to communicate right now. 

This fucking sucks.  I am angry.  I am lonely.  I am terribly afraid.  I miss his loving arms.  I miss his beautiful hands on me.  Why can't he just come back?  Why do I have to do this alone?  Why was my future ripped from me?  I have so many questions.  All of them I may not ever have the answers to.  How in the hell am I supposed to survive like this?  This isn't fair.  We were supposed to grow old together.  We had so much more to do.  I feel like I'm just going through the motions now.  Every day just doing what has to be done and that's all.

I loved him with a strong heart.  My goal was to make him happy.  To do anything that I could for him.  I hope that I made him happy.  I tried so hard.  I tried so hard to give him everything he needed and more.  I would have done anything for him.  I just can't believe this is happening.  This is supposed to happen to old, sick people.  Not my baby.  Not my young, beautiful, smart, funny, charming, brilliant husband.  Not my baby.

Right now I am inconsolable.  I'm just going to have to curl up with his fleece, cry, and pretend like I do every night.

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