Life does not go on
I lost my soulmate of 33 years (28 married) on August 24, 2013 to a unforgiving recurrence of breast cancer. She battled without complaint. She inspired with her courage and dignity. She died too soon. 53 years, one month and six days.
I found and read letters I had written to her that she had kept in a safety box. I fell hard for her. True love. Sunshine in my life. She continues to be THE ONE.
I’m alive but just barely. I wake up so I know there’s another day to get through. I stumble along. Detached. Living but then again not living. In suspended animation. Dead on the inside, coping on the outside. Like I’m walking in a fog. I’m withdrawing from life. Slowly but surely, I am erasing my presence. I don’t go out. I retreat back into my cocoon at home where I feel her presence. Perhaps an occasional visit from our kids. Our house. Her memory. Her presence. Our things. Our life.
I am disconnected. Unplugged. Lost and lonely. I no longer have my place. I don’t belong. Nothing seems right. I have truly lost my better half. The sunshine to my darkness. The laughter to my cries. I am numb with pain. I pray it ends. I pray to her to make it stop. My heart bleeds. I have no one to turn to. Get over it. Time will heal the wound. Move on. But I can’t. Something has to give. I can’t go on. I want out.