Fridays come in like a punch to the gut. Like a wrecking ball. Like a dark heavy cloud. I start the day off, two feet out of the bed, down to start the coffee, and then after that, some days it’s a mess. It’s tears and weird sounds and breathing that hurts. It’s trying so hard not to call my dad, because he could be having a good day, a good moment. It’s people asking me to do things and me panicking at not knowing how to tell them I just can’t commit to anything because this is all too much. The very nothingness of someone’s former constant presence is ALL. TOO. MUCH. 
Today is a hard day. I thought to myself yesterday how I haven’t cried in a few days, that I hadn’t felt that heavy cloak of heartbreak. That maybe I’m turning a corner. And here I sit today in pajamas still, trying to figure out what exactly I’m doing. I’m texting with my sisterwife and she is doing an excellent job of listening and saying exactly the right things. Which is telling me I’m ok, and it’s ok to be sad, and that I’m worth it all. I’m crying while texting and my loving little boy is moving my hair out of my face and telling me “look mommy, the sunshine is out don’t cry!” Am I ruining him? It’s my new greatest fear. Is too much of a sad mom a bad thing? I think so; though I’d rather have a sad mom than no mom. 
Ugh. It’s all falling down today. And people try to keep me busy which is just so sweet and on a surface level so so helpful. Until it’s not. Because keeping busy just prolongs the being alone part. And as much as the being alone, or feeling alone in a house full of people still feels like the loneliest thing I could think of; I still must feel this lonely feeling until it lessens, because that is how grief works. Because people who want me to be numbing my pain with Zoloft just saves me my pain for later, when I least expect it, and likely won’t want it or even have a clue of how to handle it then. Because I don’t know how to handle it now. But people are “more understanding” now. And by more understanding I mean not very understanding at all. So I just invite the pain now, because I don’t want to be like this forever. So I’ll skip the busy, and I’ll certainly skip the fucking Zoloft, thanks. 
I am a walking, living, working, breathing, grieving person who has to still be a mom, a professional, a wife, a daughter and a sister. I try to stay strong and give every last ounce of my happiness out to everyone. I try to understand that even though I may not be having a good day, Allie and Chris are, so I have to be strong for myself those days. I am the personification of these here quotes ~ “don’t judge her, you have no idea what storm God asked her to walk through” – “never look down on anyone unless you’re helping them up.” And all of us, collected as a human race should be kind and gentle to whoever we come in contact with. Thanks everyone for bearing with me through the very darkest time in my life. If I sound unlike my regular pleasant and happy go lucky self, I know. Please don’t point it out. I’m trying to steady my footing on this gigantic mountain that has been placed on my path. 

Today I’m missing all the things that only you could say to make me feel better. To make me feel right. Or tell me when I was wrong, but you still love me more anyway 💙