I spent all morning in turmoil. I am so needy and desperate. I shouldn't be ashamed of it, so I started getting angry that I was. Of course I'm needy and desperate. My fucking husband died and I feel more alone than ever as his one year anniversary approaches.
Brooding in my room was doing no fucking good, and it's a beautiful day outside. I decided to go see TJ. Being with him always seems to calm me down. I went to the cemetery and laid next to him on my back. I let my left hand rest on his grave (where his chest is) and closed my eyes. At first I wasn't sure what to say. So I just cried and cried. I heard a car pull up, so I decided to sit up so whomever it was didn't think I was dead or something. Thankfully, it was Mr Sprite. His real name is Dave, but we call each other Mr Sprite and Mrs Wild Turkey, since those are the bottles and cans we have on our spouses graves. He had come to share a beer with her because he said they always shared one in the early afternoon when he got home from work. He hugged me for a long time and I burst into tears. He just held me and I managed to choke out that Saturday is TJ's 1 year. He started to cry a bit and said he had two more months before his wife's anniversary and he didn't envy me one bit. We talked for a while and he kept telling me that he wanted to die. Hoped he would be taken soon and prayed for death every day. He said he's just done. I told him I was done, too, but didn't want to die. I meant to continue to explain why, but he interjected and said "I do!". If I were older, maybe. If I believed in heaven, maybe. But I don't want to die because I'm afraid that even death won't allow me to be with TJ again. I want so badly to be wrong, but I can't imagine dying and having him waiting for me. As much as I wish for that, I can't get there. I'd love to be wrong. What a wonderful surprise it would be to die and to see him waiting for me! But I just don't think that'll happen. After Mr Sprite left, I laid back down and finally figured out what I wanted to talk to TJ about.
I asked him so many questions. "Am I being selfish?" "Am I doing something wrong?" "What could I be doing differently?" I wish more than anything he could have answered me. He always had a way of knocking sense into me in a snap. I told him I wished I was more like him. To stay calm and let things roll. I think too much. I fucking hate that. I hate being jealous. I hate feeling needy and pathetic. I want to feel normal again. I practically demanded that he help me feel better. I can never go back, but I want to find happiness again. True and pure happiness. It just seems so unattainable. I am working my ass off all the time. And yet, I feel like I haven't a thing to show for it. And I want to know that others see how hard I'm working. This shit isn't easy.
After I finished talking with him, I continued to lay there in the sun until it got too cold. The breeze picked up; what a bummer. I shared the last bit of coffee I had with him, and packed up to go. I stopped by the liquor store to stock up on Wild Turkey 101 for Saturday.
I feel completely and totally wiped out from my emotions today. If I had a nickle for every time I told myself not to care anymore... I hate always feeling stretched far too thin.