God, how I love you. Oh how this hurts. Each day I wake up on the couch-because I cannot bear to be in our room-and it hits me fresh again. What has happened to us? I miss you so much...too much. Each day this burden, this knowing, gets even harder to handle.
I was going through your top drawer today, just wanting to touch your things...the things that were important to you... and I found a stack of cards. All of the cards I had ever given you. The ones you used to fake roll your eyes over and ask,"Do I have to read the whole thing right now?" or "Did you have to add even more writing..." The ones you used to read and then look over at me and smile and say,"That's very nice,dear and I love you too" because you didn't know what else to say. You confessed that to me once. I read through every one of those cards, picking and slicing and slashing at this wound you have left that will never heal. And I counted. I counted 37 times (how funny that matches our ages) where I wrote that I could never possibly imagine a life without you in it. A fear...realized.
I was remembering how I would tell you to drive safe and wear your seat belt every morning when you left for work and thinking of how you were found with your seatbelt on. I remembered how I would call you every morning about 25 minutes after you left and say,"I just wanted to make sure that you made it to work okay..." until you asked me to stop using that phrase and to call you "just to say hello". I remember that really rough day you were having at work when you called me to say that you just needed to hear the sound of my voice. I don't think you have any idea how much I loved the sound of your voice... how much I crave it now. I need you so much.
I keep thinking back to Friday night, laying on your chest and listening to your heartbeat...and feeling safe. Saturday morning, just the two of us, drinking coffee and talking and you opening your heart up to me. Of running your fingers through my hair as I lay in your lap-of switching places and laying your head in my lap. Noting that your hair was beginning to gray at the temples (just a touch) and how unbelievable it was that you would be even more stunning to look at. Of picking up James that night and watching "Charlotte's Web" together. Of holding a washcloth to your head later on because you had a headache and couldn't sleep. Of laying there with you that last night and just running my hands along your skin.
Of that night, a long time ago, when we were out with friends and I was telling a story. Of you leaning over as I was talking, and kissing me. Then leaning back and winking at me (with that incredibly delicious wink) and saying,"I'm sorry. What were you saying? I couldn't help myself."
I long for your arms and your hands and your eyes. I can't imagine this. I need you. I need you. I need you so badly.
The friends and family have left. The phone doesn't ring sometimes all day. A few really wonderful people call, but I am sure I am driving them away because I can't be "me" anymore, and nothing they say is remembered. And I am so incredibly alone. Your death has affected and hurt so many people that I understand that it is easier for them to avoid it. Avoid us. The few times I have gone somewhere to see our friends or family I am the third wheel. I am jealous. I am longing. and I am loving you. And it is the most painful thing to feel your heart break over and over again until you start to wonder if you really could die of a broken heart.
I took our son out to dinner tonight at a restaurant you hated...because I cannot handle going to our family places and he is being such a good boy. He is surviving and you would be proud, but he misses you. And a lot of the time when we talk about you and he starts to cry all I can do is cry with him and tell him I am sorry and wish like hell that I could change places with you. And the restaurant is surrounded by places I have been with you...Lowe's and the theater where we just took the kids to see the Simpson's movie and I said that we shouldn't have to pay to see what you can see at home for free and you laughed because that was the first scene and the first thing Homer said...and you squeezed my hand behind James' head. And your daughter isn't facing this, and she doesn't want to be around me, and I am messing this up, faltering so badly that it's time for you to come home now.
I miss you. I miss us.