Mini

Last night on my way home, I was thinking to myself about how I wish I could talk to Steven about everything that's happening with me. Work is changing, and I'm changing. It killed me that I don't have that giggly "GUESS WHAT?!" to tell him. I was bummed!

Then I changed the radio station, and this happened:

Puzzle #3

Feeling lonely is terribly exhausting. For a year now I've contributed my feelings of loneliness to the obvious: I want Steven back. And I do. I want him back, and I'd there's nothing I wouldn't do to fix all of this. Except that's not an option. It's getting harder and harder for me to tell the difference between wanting Steven and wanting companionship. That's scary. I don't know if I know how to do that. But I'm overwhelmed by both the insane desire to make it happen and do something about it, and extreme fear of failure, disappointment, and judgment. I'm beginning to see that this is the very reason I feel so unstable. Ideally, a solution would randomly be dropped in to my lap and I could feel less awful.

...wranglers are a plus, too.

"You always need attention!"

I'd spent the last several months freaking out about how to handle 'the anniversary.' It has always been referred to as this horrible, emotional, and worst day of your life kind of sad. So, the best advice I had gathered was to make a plan and quit worrying about it. No problem. I planned to go get the tattoo, and then go to Fairmount horse races. I stopped by the cemetery also. I didn't cry all day. I was happy with my plan and who I was spending the day with. I slept in.

I wish somebody would have warned me about the day after. When you get home, unpack your bag, wash dishes, do laundry...what then? I don't have a tattoo to get every day for the rest of my life. I'm going to have boring days. 1 year and 1 day since Steven died feels no different than day 152 or day 43 or day 290. There is no part of me that feels relieved that I made it through the anniversary. No part of me feels like that's an accomplishment.

When this awful, distracting feeling of loneliness doesn't eat away at me every minute of the day...then I will know. Could be just me feeling more comfortable being alone, or it could be having someone there to fill a tiny piece of that to make it not hurt so freakin bad. I don't know which, and I don't know how I will know that I'm making the right decision. Is this something that I will have to build up courage and be brave, or is it something I just wait for in a sense of 'you'll know when you're ready.' Honestly, I think that's bullshit. Is that what happened when Steven died? The universe thought I was ready to be alone? Was I ready to pick out a cemetery plot? Was I ready to start over again? I don't remember having that feeling at all, nor did I get to choose if I was ready or not. I think this is how it works.

#ineedattention

(When I'd tell Steven that I needed attention, I would get a big hug. I remember making it a point to remember the feeling of his heart beating. Sappy? Yep.)

Soooo...

First, I was like.....

But then I was like...

#tattoo #1styeardone #didthatreallyjusthappen #nowwhat

Digging my heels in to yesterday.

You know that feeling?
When you're just waiting.
Waiting to get home, in to your room,
close the door, fall in to bed,
And just let everything out that you kept in all day.
That feeling of both relief and desperation.
Nothing is wrong.
But nothing is right either.
And you're tired.
Tired of everything, tired of nothing.
And you just want someone to
be there and tell you it's ok.
But no one's going to be there.
And you know you have to be strong
for yourself, because no one can fix you.
But you're tired of waiting.
Tired of having to be the one to fix yourself and everyone else.
Tired of being strong
And for once, you just want it to be easy.
To be simple. To be helped. To be saved.
But you know you won't be.
But you're still hoping.
And you're still wishing.
And you're still staying strong and fighting
with tears in your eyes.
You're fighting.

Last night he was wearing a bright orange shirt and khaki shorts. He stood about 10 feet away from me, and he was smiling real big and waving at me.

I got half way through typing this blog and said, "I have no desire to do this right now." So that's all I've got today.