Five years. Five long, short, devastating, exhilarating, empty, fulfilled, blurry, memorable years without you.
I'll just come right out and say it. Enough with the excuses. It's not that I don't have the time to write, or that I have nothing left to say, or that I've found closure... it's that I honestly can't bring myself to log on anymore. I don't want to talk about your death anymore. I don't want to think about cancer anymore. I don't want to be reminded of life's struggles anymore. I just want to be feel normal; it's been five years! Shouldn't I feel normal again?
I'm frustrated because I know now that I'll never feel like my old self again. My heart will always, always, feel a void. And it breaks me.
I thought finding love would fill me-- and it does-- but then I'm left dreaming of what it would be like to see the two of you getting to know each other, exchanging quick-witted jokes, laughing, and loving me together. I thought moving away would separate me from the hurt, but it only does so in a physical sense, and I'm left missing my family, my old friends, our home, and feeling that closeness to the life we had together.
It's been five freaking years. How did I get here? It's truly such a blur, yet if I had another day with you I could fill it with the most incredible details of the life I've made for myself since the day I lost you.
I think the only thing I've really come to terms with is this:
Those random times I go from laughing to an absolute monumental meltdown; those nights I toss and turn and still recall so vividly the way you smelled and your warmth when you hugged me; those damn episodes of Grey's Anatomy that leave me a sobbing mess on the couch because it triggered a memory; those days I just have absolutely no idea which road is best for me and would give anything to hear your wisdom... Those moments aren't a sign of weakness; I know that now. Instead, those moments are a clear and direct reflection of the utterly amazing woman you were and just hard difficult-- no, impossible-- it's going to be to ever, ever stop missing you.
I love you,
7/19/1962 - 12/2/2007