A single teardrop has a story to tell, a single gasp to smother the cry has a story to tell, the emptiness and loss has it’s own story to tell but when I lost you, that was my story to tell. You came into my life for my protection as your wife, you came into my life for my caring and concern, my worry, my tears.
I will never marry again and when I say never that is exactly what I mean as I cannot allow anymore pain to wash my life leaving it’s streaks along the way. I am not capable of letting anyone close to me any longer and I do not want anyone close either.
I am a walking target, a poster child for what marriage should never be reduced to, even the word makes me want to puke. Love doesn’t come with a paper guarantee and neither does, truth, honesty and integrity and I have found love can be a bitter pill, a very bitter pill at least for me.
When I think of my husband’s death I think of what I do not want in life and I will never settle for less again, I do not have to and those that think they can reduce me to play their game then they have confused me with Milton Bradley.
I feel so much more then most and I feel it so much deeper and yes I can be a beautiful emotional mess at times but that is just the way it is. This past weekend has done nothing but bring up reminders of painful events that should be left in the corner but they do not wish to stay there.
You want your wealth, fancy clothes, homes, cars, planes and fame? Take it and shove it because when it matters, when things really matter you will have your material possessions to save you from the wreckage? Will that new pair of jeans wear on you well? Take a damn good look into the mirror and you will see, if you are capable of looking past your own image that life is finite and that includes yours.