And the world flows on.

The world flows on and I am stuck in an eddy.  I'm close enough to the edge of it to feel the flow, to be turned by the flow, and then I am caught up in the swirling backwater again.  Ah, grief.

THREE YEARS and I'm still stuck.  I can't seem to get over the thoughts of what should be, why isn't he here?  why am I alone?

It's my birthday again tomorrow.  He will be forever forty and I am 45 tomorrow.  I have white hair and wrinkles he doesn't know about.  Can he see me?  Wherever he is, does he miss me?  Will I see him again?  My half was ripped away, his own violent action and I'm so angry and feel so guilty for being angry.

I want to move on, but the men I am interested in aren't available, so I take that I'm not really, really ready to move on or I would pick men who could have me in their lives.... well, I only want one, not a whole harem of men (wouldn't that be interesting?)

I wonder if I'll ever be whole.

And I'm so tired of holding my head up.  I'm tired of taking on the world.  I'm tired of getting up every morning and not being able to wake him, or rest against him at the end of a long day.  I'm tired of holding the world up.  Yes, I know.  God.  I know.  I do.

This isn't every day.  This is just a bubble.  I can ride the bubble.  I've ridden this bubble.  Yet, today I feel like I'm drowning.  And the world moves on, flowing on and on and I am stuck in this eddy.

It's the 4th of July this weekend.  I won't do anything.  I'll stand at my bedroom window and watch the fireworks till I am tired, or I'll dork around online until my eyes hurt enough to make me shut them to sleep.  Even if I go someplace, I'll be the add-on.  Thought of as an obligation to include.  I don't fit.

He made me match.  We were the oddballs and we matched and because we matched we fit places.  Or, I thought we did.  Maybe he still felt the oddball.  I'm tired.  I'm tired of swimming alone.

I'm afraid if I say I am tired like this, someone will decide I need intervention, and I don't really.  I'm not going anywhere and my debts make it unlikely that I'll stop living because I can't give up.

It's a pity party day.  Trust me, not only does no one else want to hear this, I don't want to hear myself.  THREE YEARS.  I am dog paddling in the eddy and the world flows on, floats on.

I promised a friend that after a year it gets easier, that her grief will get easier, and it does - it will..  These happen with much less frequency.  Family visits are a trigger for me.  And I had two last month.  Too many.  I love them but I don't want to remember.  I can't feel this sad all the time any more.

I've got next to nothing to give today... and I have to bake because it's the fourth of July this weekend and it'll be profitable.  People think you are brave when you are just responding to survival instinct.  I do not feel brave.  What man in his right mind would want to take this mess on?   I am not always here, but today I am stuck in this eddy.

I had better get myself into the kitchen.  I do not want to go.  But I will keep treading water because that's what I do.  I survive and sometimes I thrive, but I am still stuck in this eddy.  Oh, how I want to flow on.