Sigh

Pretend I picked a really cool song to go here.

Hear it? Does it make you feel what I'm feeling right now? Pick something else then. I want something better than that. Pretend it's the perfect song to start your perfect day. Did you like some of the other music I chose for past entries? Go play that instead. Listen to it, then press the back button and return to the blog, or sales, or whatever site that brought you here. There's no need to read today's blog, it's really just for me.

I've already prepared a post, It just needs a little tightening, and then some funny dropped in and it's good to go. This isn't it.

I don't think I'm gonna find the funny today. I've been lying in bad for two hours, staring at the ceiling, waiting for all this crap tide to ebb, and it ain't happening.

These are the times when I should be able to turn to MyWife and say "help."

These are the times that she was never there. I need my brave face for the rest of the world, and I can't find it. This is where she should be there to say "Here it is." That was never her.

Don't get me wrong. This isn't some bitter "you were never there" thing. She was good at some things. This wasn't one of them. She was never a nurturer. I knew that, and while we were together, I accepted it. I wanted more, but knew it wasn't one of her strengths. What she was good at, that I thank her for. I'm sure she'll find somebody to who can match up better with that than I did.

But one of the things it did to me, was it taught me to find strength in her presence. I knew she was there, I knew somebody was there.

I don't know that anymore.

Two years ago, I knew we were slipping. I wrote a story about an older man whose wife died called "Remember the Sugar." He's trying to complete his day to day tasks while memories of her flash through his head. I wrote this line thinking of MyWife:

"When I was I kid, I stood on my own; when I grew up, you taught me to lean; now you're gone, I can hardly walk."

I learned to lean on somebody else, and now I need to re learn to not.

The cruelest trick of them all? It's that everything I did surrounded her. It's like having one bridge to drive into town. Everyday you use that bridge, but when it's gone, where do you go. It's you, alone on the one side of the chasm.

I mean, I've been alone before, and I'll get used to it again, but if it weren't for this house I'd have nothing holding me to this community, and this community wouldn't even notice my dust. But I do have this house, and here I have to stay.

Just sometimes it would be nice to hear a voice in the dark say, "It's ok, there's somebody here."

IF you've read this far, I'm sorry. These are my thoughts, I just needed to get them down. I promise the next entry will be fun and sarcastic again.

-RB