I find it hard to believe that it’s been almost 18 months without Mark.
The days leading up to the 26th are always especially poignant, particularly painful, but for some reason, these days seem harder.
I don’t know.
What I know is that it is 2am, my boyfriend is snoring beside me, my eyes are burning with the need to sleep but my body won’t shut down.
It’s not for lack of trying.
I’ve closed my eyes. I’ve tried to fall asleep. I’ve done deep, meditative breathing.
My body just won’t fall asleep.
And then there’s the man snoring beside me.
No matter how many times I get him to roll over, within minutes, he’s facing me again, snoring.
And not gentle snores. *sigh*
But I’m coming up on 18 months. I’m determined that this will be a wonderful, cheery Christmas.
That the tears won’t overwhelm me.
That the pain won’t consume me.
I won’t be alone this Christmas – my daughter, my two youngest sons, my step sons and my boyfriend will all be here.
It doesn’t change the facts. This is the 2nd Christmas without him. Another milestone.
I’m curious why it seems harder as time goes on? Shouldn’t it be getting easier? These “dates”?
I wish I could sleep. That… that would just be perfect. I have a 9am appointment tomorrow – I need sleep.
Eighteen months. It seems like a lifetime. It seems like yesterday. I still look around wondering WTF happened to my life…