How can I exhibit the symptoms of a widow when he is not dead?
Why does his face appear somewhere in every crowd?
Why does it take every ounce of self control to go INTO my home each day?
Why do I wait for the sound of him messing with the lock to come home and die again when he does not, again?
Why does my mother tell me he could have earned brownie points by coming to help me get around on my usual wednesday round but he did not show. And she was disappointed. She wants him to want to be here; with me, for me. Obviously he doesn;t. Somehow I have to accept this is a real ending.
He can justify and argue it.
But he is gone.
He did not stay.
Therefore he does not love me enough to stay.
And I am NOT okay.
I am a mess.
I am desperately hoping for a chance and a place to just fall apart.