Work, Witching Hour and Dinner

Oh fuck.  I have to go to work tomorrow.

I’ve been counting down the days, going through a wide range of emotions and now, at the witching hour, waiting for dinner to cook, it hits.

I have to go to work tomorrow.

My life changes again… tomorrow.

I don’t know if I’m ready for that change.

If he was here… he would be encouraging me, texting me with supportive notes, here to hug me when I get home.   He’d be high five’ing me and possibly sending me flowers at work.

He’d be soothing my fears.

He’d be the wind beneath my wings… holding me up.

What am I supposed to do without his support?   How am I supposed to come back to a life without him?    I’ve been insulated, cocooned, wrapped in a blanket of grief in my house with friends to support me… and breaking out of that and into a life that looks something like I remember but doesn’t feel like it… that’s scary.

I feel like the chair I’m sitting on suddenly has only 3 legs.    I can sit on it, but if I’m not careful, I’ll fall…

I’m fucking scared of what tomorrow will bring…

Today and tomorrow

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One thought on “Work, Witching Hour and Dinner

  1. Breathe, honey, breathe. And get that outfit ready tonight.

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