I wake up and I'm mad that he's not here still.
I talk to him like he's here and I think it's frustrating that he's not. I'm sick of the phone ringing. If one more person asks, how are you?... I'm gonna scream. How the heck do you think I am. My husband, my friend, my ace, my body heat in the bed, my lover, my friend, my other half is gone. So I don't answer the phone. I'm not trying to be rude, but I am. My heart hurt. My soul aches. I tried to eat the pain away...I made myself sick. I tried to sleep the pain away, but it's still here...strong as ever when I wake up. I'm even doing an audio diary for him. Everyday I wake up, I grab my digital recorder and talk to him. I tell him about the day before and everything he missed and stuff that I think he'd like to hear or want to know.
Nothing's good enough. It's not enough. I plan on strangling the next person to tell me he's in a better place. Forget that. He was already there and that place was here with me and our trio (the kids). I feel like nothing or no one will ever fill this void. People try to send comforting texts or emails or funny videos and most of the time it literally makes me want to throw my phone or laptop across the room. It's simply not fair. We weren't done. We had plans.