Nina’s Thoughts

It’s 2:13 am and exactly 10 months, 10 days, and 13 hours since my husband was killed. Its not easier yet.  Ummm… I’m still waiting…What the fuck!  What ever happened to your clichés? So far, none of those seem to be right…..

I kissed his picture, attempted to sleep, and went to bed thinking of us making love on our wedding night.  “Maybe this will be a memory that makes me smile.” Then I put the pillow over top of my head so my guests downstairs couldn’t hear me cry.  Guess no smiling tonight.  I sat back up and picked up my computer. “Man its hot in here,” I thought, so I took off my sweatpants.  Looking down, I realized I had on the UFC underwear that he sent me while he was in Iraq, that he never got a chance to see me in.

I’m so alone. Yeah, you say I’m surrounded by so many that love me, which may be true to you, but I’m still more alone than I have ever been in my life. I’m screaming so loud; can’t you hear? It’s so obvious you can’t because you keep telling me how strong I am. How many more times do I have to hear that you don’t know what you would do if you were in my position? Guess what?!  I don’t know what I would do either!!! I still don’t know what I’m doing. I DO know, however, that it doesn’t matter how MANY people “LOVE” me because the one person who mattered can’t tell me he loves me. I know, I know, you’re saying, “well he will always love you, he is always with you.”  Well, you know what? He’s not here right now. He’s not in my bed.  I can’t hear him snore; I can’t feel his breath or his heart beating. You know where he is? He is in a picture frame on my nightstand while I type this. He’s at Dugan cemetery in plot 21, and most of all, he’s in my head and my heart.  All I want to do is talk to him, but I can’t. Nothing you think you can say to make me feel better helps me. It just shows me how absolutely clueless you are to my agonizing pain.

I’m a zombie. I’m a shell of a person I once was. Do you know I died too that day? I’m just as dead as he is, but I still am alive enough to feel this pain, which I can only guess is worse than death. I’m glad he’s the one in the better place though, because you see, I still love him so much that I’d still rather be the one suffering. Do you know I look at pictures of myself and grieve the loss of me too? Do you know I see what I used to look like and I realize that I’ll never look like that again? I’m troubled. I’m tarnished. I’m a broken person. Do you realize that while you go about your lives, have babies, kiss your lovers, go to dinner, or even the grocery store, that I sit at home alone and think about how the smallest things were fun because he was there? Now, I can only eat take out because its too much of a reminder of him to even walk thru the supermarket? Do you know everything is too much of a reminder?

Do you know I used to be ignorant just like you and how badly I wish I could still be? I remember all the plans we had. I can’t imagine fulfilling any of those without him. I can’t imagine having a child and knowing it doesn’t look like him and it didn’t come from him. Do you know all I want so badly is to be happy, but I just can’t? You can’t imagine what that’s like. When all you want is to be happy, but there’s nothing you can force on yourself to make that feeling come. There’s only one person who can stop your grief, and you can never even hear, see, taste, smell, touch or talk to them EVER again. Do you know what kind of frustration that brings?

Do you know everyday there is a hole inside of me that I can’t describe? A welled up ball of frustration eating at the pit of my soul, it makes me want to scream until my eyes are bloodshot and my throat gives out? Do you know why I don’t scream? It will do no good. Do you know that fact makes me want to scream even more? I just don’t have the energy or the will.

Do you know that every time I go to his grave I want to bring a shovel, so I can dig a hole to get to him, open up his casket and lay with him? Sometimes it’d be better than lying in this bed alone. Do you know I think of all the seconds or minutes or hours that I didn’t lay with him because I was busy doing something around the house, and I regret it? Do you know I regret things that make no sense? Do you know how much I hate hearing about you and your partner’s petty arguments? Have you learned nothing from my tragedy?

Do you know how much I miss him, my life, and how no where feels like home because home was in his arms? Do you know how much I hate the people who did this to him even though I’m not supposed to have hate in my heart because I won’t get to heaven, and if I don’t get there I may never see him again? Do you know what it feels like to have to wait a lifetime to see the only person in the world who ever mattered?

You can never understand me and I hate it. I hate that you’re happy and I’m miserable. I hate that my husband died and everyone went on with their lives. I hate how I am a cold hearted person now.

I’m sorry I can’t pretend to be the perfect widow; I don’t think there is such a thing. I just feel no obligation to any other person besides him and others that can understand my pain.