It’s a hard struggle to get back up after life has kicked my ass and knocked me face first into the ground. No doubt about it. But I have to do it. I have done this before, build a life, a healthy life after surviving childhood sexual abuse. I have the skills. But do I have the heart?
My husband is dead. 9 months almost 10. I am have to get back up. But I don’t want to.
Things are broken around the house, too. Like the lawnmower, the chicken coop, the water pressure is down and I don’t know how to get the TV to work in the front room. I need to talk with him about what to do, with the trucks steering, where is the printer program, and what does he want me to do with his piano.
Maggie can’t accept his death. She still mopes around the house. Actually, we both do. We both act like he is just late coming home from work. He is not. She was his dog from the day he brought her home. To her, I was just someone to tolerate. She loved him whole heartedly and when he didn’t come home, her life wasn’t the same either.
I’m trying to create a life. Even trying to imagine life without him in it seems impossible right now.
My imagination has abandoned me. My heart too.