Road Trips

How I can make road trips and not end up dead or in a wreck, is beyond me. When I'm with others, I'm fine. It's the driving alone part, that consumes me. 

I overthink. Meh, really, I just think. 

I listen to music, and reminisce. I think of all the memories that Ryan & I made while taking road trips. 

I cry.

A lot. 

I sing while crying. 

How I can drive, I'll never know. 

One step forward, 4 step back. 

That is the reality of my reality. 

But, as long as I continue to take that one step, that's what is important, right? 

Why am I a year and a half out and still cannot accept that my husband is never coming back? Why do I still try to tell myself that he's just gone for a while? 

I do tell myself that he is gone, forever. I will never see him again. And then I cry. And then I block it out as quickly as possible, and I remain in denial. 

When does this cycle end? 

I'm watching my son grow and learn all about the world....and while I am so incredibly proud to be his mother, and ecstatic for everything he is learning... It hurts me so bad that I have to do this alone. That I don't get to sit down at the end of the work day with Ryan and tell him all about the funny things Brayden did today. I don't get to tell him that while I was painting the bathroom, he came in and dunked his hand into the paint can. 

I don't get to tell him about Lucas's vet appointment today. 

I don't get to share in the everyday things with him that I'm supposed to. 

I am his. 

Brayden is his. 

Lucas is his. 

We are his. 

We are his family. 

This is our family. 

But it will never be. It can never be. 

Why can't I accept that? 

I'm tired of being tired. 

Smiling isn't my favorite.

I'm tired of pretending. 

I'm not strong. 

I don't want to be strong. 

I want the man that I married, that I built my life with, to be alive. To be well. To be HERE. 

It was during road trips that we talked about things like, what would happen if one of us died. How we would want things handled. Where we would want to be. Etc. 

We held hands, nearly the entire time. Even if we just went to the store. 

Now, I hold my gear stick. I'm so empty. 

We would sing together, or he would sing to me and I would tell him how awful he sounded. Do you know what I would give to hear his voice sing again? Instead, I sing alone. And when I do, I think of how awful I sound, and I think of Ryan, and I cry....sing cry. 

I Don't even know what life would be like with Ryan here anymore. And saying that, feeling that way, is like putting my heart in a blender. It hurts. It hurts so bad. 

I need to not take road trips for a while. 

...I've also been out of therapy and off my meds for far too long. 

Whatever.