Why am I searching for granite cemetery vases and not cooking supper. It’s 5:46, why aren’t you home yet? And if you were here, how many pills would you have taken today? How many lies would you have told me already today? Where were you all day and what were you doing? What kind of drugs were you taking? I hate having more questions than answers, and I feel horrible and awful that you couldn’t share your pain with me. I wanted to ease your pain, help you, love you, hold you, be intimate with you. I wanted you to be healthy and happy and gorgeous and glorious. Now you are dead, you are a burned up body, crushed up ashes….i know your spirit is somewhere…but where? I don’t see you. I don’t feel you. You are not showing yourself to me. I am low as low can get…I am ignoring our kids, not being a good mom, not playing with them…I’m just being how you were, depressed and nonexistent. I don’t want to be this way, God please help.
- ► 2012 (109)