I'm broken...

I don't even know where to start tonight, other than I want to scream.  I want to get on the roof of my house, and just scream.  And then scream some more.  I actually contemplated doing this, but one, my kids are sleeping, and two, I'm sure the neighbors wouldn't appreciate it.  Everyone already thinks I am crazy, I'm sure, so I probably shouldn't give them more fuel to add to the fire.  So instead, I'll just scream inside.


As I think back, I realize we spent the majority of our relationship in a hospital.  I hated that place.  Yet it was home.  As I have made a new home, I find myself missing what was old.  And as I sit here tonight, I can't help but think, I'd gladly give up everything, just to be sitting in a hospital room with him again.


As Christmas and Kayden's first birthday get closer and closer, the pain gets worse and worse.  The knots get tighter, and tighter, within my stomach.  I just want to go back.  I want to go back to when I was a kid, and I was excited for Christmas, because this year I am surely dreading it.  I would give anything to go back to a year ago.  Just to be with him.  Sit with him.  Talk with him.  Be. With. Him.


Is this even possible?!  Is it really possible that I am alone?  Is it possible that Christmas is almost here, and he is not?  Is it possible that his son is already turning one, and he is not here to set his cake down in front of him?

I'm so angry.  I don't know who, or what, I am angry at, I'm just angry.  I'm angry he isn't here anymore.  I'm angry I don't have a best friend anymore.  I'm angry he died.  I'm angry that my family has been demolished.  I'm angry that cancer even exists.  I'm angry he had to suffer.  I'm angry that the entire time we were together, he was sick.  I'm just angry.  Period.  It's not fair.  Why?  Why him?  Why us?  Why our family?  Why do I have to explain to Kayden years from now, why HE doesn't have a Daddy here anymore?  Why do my kids have to go through this?

I'm broken.  Plain and simply put, broken.  And at this point, I feel like it's un-fixable.  I feel like I will always be broken.  There is a huge hole, and no one will ever be able to fix it.  The past few months, Keegan has started asking me, "Mommy, are you happy?"  He's five.  Even he can see it.  Every day, I wake up, and go through the motions, but my heart isn't in it.  I try to put on a smile, for their sake.  But any way you look at it, I'm broken.  Even my five year old can see that.  I just don't even want to do it anymore.  I'm tired of being here, in this world that doesn't make sense to me anymore.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not suicidal, but I think if I didn't have two beautiful babies to wake up to everyday, I might be.

The closer Christmas gets, the more depressed I get.  Not only because I am dreading it, but also because it's just another reminder that time is still moving.  He left, yet the world moves on.  And it's another reminder that his first angelversary is coming up.  Really?  Already?  Has it really, already, almost been a year?  It just doesn't even seem possible.

His last breath, it haunts me every day.  I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.  I see it.  I feel it.  Everyday.  I re-live it.  Everyday.  That last day, was, hands down, the most awful day of my life.  And I see it every day.  My mind won't rest.  I hear the awful noises he was making, while struggling to breathe.  I feel that feeling of hopelessness, and helplessness.  I see his body laboring with every breath.  I see him take his final breath, as I felt like I was the one struggling for air.  I see myself falling onto his body, sobbing in disbelief.  I feel that deep sorrow.  All of it.  Everyday.  Most days, more than once.  It's stuck on repeat in my mind, and I don't know how to turn it off.

Occasionally I go back and read old posts.  It brings back memories.  Some good, most bad.  What strikes me most tonight, is how positive I sounded in the beginning.  It almost makes me wish I could go tell that girl that it will be so much harder than she ever imagined.

While I was reading through some of my older posts tonight, I came across one talking about hating being a single mom.  That post was written within a few weeks after his death.  If only I'd known how much harder it would get.  I still hate it.  I hate that I have to attend Keegan's school functions alone.  I hate that I have to attend anything alone.  I hate that I am the sole provider for my family, and I am solely responsible for making sure everything is done.  I hate that I can't just leave the kids with him and run to the store.  I hate that I can't even record my son's milestones, because I don't have anybody to hold the damn camera.  Kayden is on the verge of walking, but it's near impossible for me to hold my son's hand,  let go, reach my arms out for him, and try to catch it on tape at the same time.  I get a botched version every time, and it makes me that much more upset.

I apologize that this has been such a negative post.  It's just what is on my mind tonight.  I'm sure you can't tell, so let me fill you in.  I'm just really missing my husband tonight.