It’s been a while since we talked.
I think about you every second of every day.
Probably as often, if not more so, than I think of Charlie.
We’re still living at my parents house. They’re still arguing about politics <<<surprise, surprise>>>.
StateFarm is still calling me about your SUV which is just fabulous. Nothing makes it a 10-point day like having some fucktard tell you that you owe them money to fix the damages in your husband’s car that he caused in his ‘accident’. Although it does make me feel slightly better after they say that because then I can unload and drop the suicide bombshell on them and listen to them studder after I finish screaming at them.
We’re looking at houses closer to my job in Delaware. I’m hoping to be able to move over the summer so I don’t have to pull Charlie out of school.
I found the cutest little house. Its about 25-30 minutes from my job in one of the best school districts. It looks like the little hobbit house we used to dream about when we lived in Griffith Street. It’s 3 bedrooms and 1 bath with a big fenced in yard and a brand new kitchen.
I know you’d be head over heels for it.
Not crossing my fingers on getting it but I’m doing my best to make it happen.
I finally bought a new bed because I couldn’t deal with the other one anymore. I don’t know how you could have felt that mattress was comfortable. Lord knows I hated it since day 1. I ended up getting a sleep number bed because at least it’s adjustable. It’s an added plus that I can imagine you freaking the fuck out over the possibility of it shorting out while I’m asleep and catching on fire with me in it and consequently burning the whole house down. By the way, I looked this up and there are no complaints of anyone dying in a fire caused by an electrical short in the mattress. Last night was my first night using it and I woke up before my alarm this morning so I’m counting it as a win.
Things have been so insane regarding both of our family’s in the last few months. I wish you were here to help me through this. I hate that I have to do it by myself now. I know that I can go to people and all for help but that comes at a price and honestly it’s no one else’s responsibility but my own so whatever. I’ll figure it out just like I always have.
I really wish that I was angry with you for killing yourself but no matter what way I look at it, I just can’t be. I’ll never know exactly why you did it but at the end of the day I just keep remembering how quickly the MG was progressing and how you were so concerned at how tired I was for everything I had taken over. I’m pretty sure everything that you kept from me was an attempt to protect me. I’d imagine, knowing how you were, that you viewed it as your job as the man to take care of those things without stressing me out. I still wish you had told me though. Even if the MG had still taken you from us, at least we could have helped each other.
Maybe we’ll be lucky and the next time around we’ll both do it better.
I question how much I love(d) you all the time and that’s pretty irritating. I feel like I didn’t love you enough and that’s why I’m not as angry as I feel I should be. That if I’d loved you, then I’d be more of a mess. But that doesn’t sound right either because regardless of whatever I’m portraying on the outside, inside I’m a pretty big hot mess. Plus it’s hard to be a mess when you have to keep your shit together for your kid. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t I guess.
I started dating last December and I heard shit for that. People questioned how much your life meant to me because I asked for your mother’s blessing to start dating 3 months after you passed away. Not that anyone’s opinions really matters but I wonder how they would have felt if I hadn’t said anything and had her run in to me on a date. I wonder which would have hurt her more? I clearly thought it would be more painful to not know about and find out the hard way but then again I also thought we’d be married until we both died of old age or diabetes (Let’s face it; my love for sugar will catch up to me eventually). The funny thing was that I wasn’t even dating because I was ready to date at that point (petty sure no one will ever truly be ready for dating). It was more because I needed new people and places and things because all the old ones reminded me of you and I’d be ok for a little while with the old stuff but then it would start to get to me and I’d start wishing you’d taken me with you. So I had to go get new people, places and things to survive. So the sting of seeing all of our ‘stuff’ didn’t hurt so much…
I’ve gone out on dates with a few different guys. The ones were all losers who didn’t have their shit together any more than I did. After the second or third, I realized that I had to make myself change first if I was going to have any luck being happy and finding a truly decent man. I tried to stop focusing on finding a unicorn and started focusing on finding myself. It’s still a work in progress but I’m getting there. The last guy, Mr. Bumble, had many redeeming qualities even though we didn’t work out. All I all, I’m glad I met him. He reminded me of my goals and he was the best by far. So at least I’m coming up in the dating world.
I’ve finally reached the point where I actually have self esteem which is pretty awesome. I’m not sure where it was or why I hadn’t had it in so long but I found it. I just have to keep working on it so I don’t go nose over toes for the next guy that doesn’t try and sleep with me right away. 🤣
I wish I could find you though too.
I wish I could find the you that you were when we first started dating. The you that would sit on the sofa at your apartment and watch Law and Order for hours. The you that would spend all night sitting on the sofa with me watching movies and eating chicken nuggets. The you that used to wait until the bathroom would get oppressively steamy during my hot showers and then come in, giggling the whole time, and dump a pitcher of ice water over the top of the shower curtain on me. 😐
I miss that you the most.
Sometimes I wonder if that you was a figment of my imagination because I hadn’t seen him for so long.
I guess I loved him enough to wait around and take care of the other you until he returned.
I would have stayed married until the day I died if it meant that I’d get to have one more day with that you.
I wish you were still here.