37 in 2

Were you ever a child who wondered off and before you knew it you found yourself completely lost? You're looking around for anything even remotely familiar that you can grab onto for comfort, only to find that you're completely lost in the spot you're standing in while the world carries on around you?

I'm there now. 

The week has arrived, the day is upon us and before you know it Jeremy's 37th birthday has me reeling on 30 years of memories. I completely feel like a lost child. I feel like holding onto a cover girl face streak free from tears, is a challenge I won't soon win. If anyone were to hug me, I'm almost sure I'd lose it all. 

The mass of my blogs have to do with Jeremy and you'd think it'd be tiring or at least therapeutic but it's actually been neither for me. I miss his face, I struggle to remember the sound of his voice, I still regret where we were when he took his last breath. I still have so much to say, I still have so much need for him to be here, and I still can't heal the brokenness that has engulfed my soul. 

As I fight continually on a daily basis to hold back the tears I feel like it only fuels the rage or frustration I have for where we were left. If I could just feel safe I could harness all the emotions that I'm burying inside but to be vulnerable and trust someone again with something so delicate to me is beyond unfathomable. 

It's incredibly difficult to understand how he's had four birthdays pass so far. It's also incredibly difficult to understand how I've managed all of this time without him by my side, without both his anger and his love, and without his protection.  

 

Jeremy, from every closely cherished memory and conversation, all the way to the miles and miles that your ashes have traveled, I love you and I miss you with ever ounce of body. I never thought I'd live this many days of my life without you and I never imagined I'd still be apologizing to you for all the tears I still cry. Until we meet again Jer.