I am reader. I am a writer. I am a talker. I am a complex, emotional person. Luckily for me, early in my life, I found someone who not only loved that about me, but encouraged all these traits. Now, my rock, my anchor, the one person on this earth that thinks I hung the moon, is slipping away.
I am trying so hard, not to be bitter. I pray, daily. I am strong for him. I am patient and calm and cheerful. I am faking it like a boss! But, mostly, I am feeling sorry for myself. There. I’ve said it. I am still Me. Even though He is not Him. I still have all these emotions, thoughts, questions, that have no where to go.
And yes, I have friends, thank God! I am blessed with a handful of close friends who are “there” for me. I am so grateful for their prayers and concern. I have had 2-3 friends to come forward, recently, to tell me that I can call them, anytime. Unfortunately, my needs are greater than anything they understand. So, when they ask – if they ask – I tell them, I’m ok. Because, here’s the deal. I have no trouble getting 20-30 people to “like” something that I post on Facebook, but I can’t get 2-3 people to answer their damn phones when I need to talk!
I know. I get it. They are busy. Got it. I know that. But please, stop telling me you will be “there” for me. I am too time -consuming, too needy, just a big hot mess!
So, what to do? I drink. I stuff all the emotions, feelings, questions down so far, I am numb. How long will this work? Who knows? What I do know is – I am alone. Here’s the problem. I have no f*cking clue how to Be alone. So, to not bother people with my stuff, I am just coasting. Cruising. Whatever. I will take care of Him. Always. Everyday. Until the very end.
But, Me? Who, the Hell, will ever take care of Me?