So, every night over the past 5 years, TJ and I would fall asleep holding hands. This was our compromise. He wasn't much of a cuddler. In fact, he even hated the word 'cuddle'. As well as 'snuggle' and 'spoon'. I could bet that if I said any of those words, I wasn't getting any action or contact that night. He was so funny about it. I'd look at him and say "Can we cuddle?" His reply? "We can if you don't call it that."
At night, I'd want to be all up in his business in bed. If I'd had my way, I'd be inches from his face, with my arms and legs tightly wound around him. I could never be close enough to him. I used to tell him that I wished that while I held him close that it would be enough for me to melt into him and come together as one. I know that sounds corny now as I type it. But it's true. No matter how close, I wanted to be closer. It was this deep need inside me to be near him. To touch him. To smell his breath, his skin. It was, and still will remain, the safest place I could ever be.
I miss him desperately. I really don't know how I'm going to make it through without him. He was always what I wanted. I couldn't have dreamed up a better man. Sure, he had his faults, but we all do. I'd cherish now all of the things he used to do that drove me nuts. I would gladly endure the way he'd smack his lips while he was eating. Or the way he'd leave the TV on while we were trying to fall asleep. And even how he'd goose me on a near constant basis. Or stick his finger in my arm pits, or my belly button. Or in the crease of the back of my knee. He would tell me how cute my 'butt chin' was (IT'S A DIMPLE! You can barely see it. Sheesh!). He'd put his finger in the tiniest dimple and then rub his finger in there. He teased me constantly about that. Oh, man, and he'd always forget to turn the oven off after he'd made dinner. He'd be so ready to sit down and eat, I'd be clearing the plates and starting the dishes when I'd notice. Then he'd brush it off and say he'd meant to leave it on. Always joking around. When he'd smack his lips, I'd try so hard not to say anything. Occasionally I'd glace in his direction. But if he caught me, he'd lean over and talk with his mouth full "Oh, baby, I luff you scho musssh" and try to kiss me. Ew. But I giggled and squealed when he'd do that. I secretly loved it.
The way he was with me was like none other. I feel like I knew him better than anyone. I can't stop crying. These memories both bring me joy and immense sadness. He'd think I was crazy for saying I wish he were around so that he could annoy me. But I do wish for that. I want him back. I need him. I don't know how to do this. I just don't understand why. All of those plans. All of the visions of how our life would be together. How beautiful our children would look. How silly we would be when we were old and gray. All gone. In the blink of an eye. Our future is ripped from us. Now all that I have are the memories. I know, in time, they will be only filled with joy. I long for that time. The time when the fear and sadness will fall away and leave my happy memories to thrive in love. But the fear and sadness are here to stay for the near future.
I pray for peace and strength.