I Wish He Didn’t Die

I just miss my baby so so much.  There are periods  when I am really fine, and I go for weeks without crying for him.  I feel like I am moving on and going in the right direction.  Then a big wave crashes against me and I am drowning in the depths of grief.  In a world of deep human anguish and snot dripping down my nose.  Swollen eyes.  Not a pleasant sight to see.

There is no-one here to hold me as the tears are falling, falling, falling into a big puddle of anguished hurt. And I am all alone again.  I wish someone could just hold me in their arms and tell me it is OK to cry.  It is OK to miss him, instead of being so strong all the time.  I wish for once someone could take that burden away from me, so that I didn’t have to carry it all the time.

But I am fighting to be strong. And sometimes I cannot be strong.  I am also a human, and I also break down, when things get too much.And its another Christmas without him.  Another Christmas sitting around the table pretending to be happy, pretending that everything is OK – but he isn’t here.  So, somehow it doesn’t seem right.  Nothing seems right.

I am so very tired of this pain. I am oh so very tired.  I am not sure how much more I can take.


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