Sunday , January 31

     Ahhh Sunday!  After coffee and chatting, then making plans for the day,  this would have been a day we spent outside. It was warmer, in the upper 20's. We probably would have worked in his tool shed. Moving things, cleaning, making plans. Of course there would have been a trip to Lowes. Too nice a day to not go somewhere. We always parked in the same place on the side of the building, far away from other traffic. He always walked faster than me, longer strides, so I doubled my pace to keep up. I can close my eyes and see him now. Half a step in front of me, on my left. He would reach his hand back with outstretched fingers waiting for me to slide my hand into his. His fingers wrapping around my hand so I barely had to hold on. 
     We would take our time, peruse the aisles as if they were full of things we had never seen before. We would wander the cabinet department, talking about what we would like to have, the styles and features. Then find ourselves in the tools. Looking at the newest gadgets. It would have been a good day. As was any day spent with him. 
     We did talk today. Careful not to ask too many questions. Let him talk. Be cheerful. Hope he will ask about me. Hope to get tossed a bit of tenderness. Try to keep him on the phone for as long as possible. I am  confused, drifting. The time went to fast. I was not done getting to know him. Fifteen years, not enough. My heart hurts. My world hurts.

Saturday, January 30

     Soon it will be a month. Or has it been longer? Days move at a crawl and the nights, those dreadful nights, they never end. Restless sleep, broken by passage of time spent watching the minutes on the clock tick away. White noise droning, breaking the quiet. But not enough to stop the raging silence. What is it? That noise I miss so much?  Reverberation, the soft rhythm of his heartbeat faintly felt through the covers on the bed. The rhythm of breathing, slowing as he drifts off to sleep.
     Days are spent combing the internet for job openings. Monster, indeed, careerbuilder, snagajob, simplyhired, careerconnect, Ball State, Ball Hospital, Brevini, IBM, Sally Mae, Lifetouch. See a sign on a store front, go in to apply and get sent home to apply online! Fill out online applications and wonder if they are lost in that vast mass of cyberspace or do real people actually see them? Then there is the profiling, and testing. How fast do I type, what programs do I know, what experience do I have! Then interviewing, ha! I wonder about the persons on the other side of the desk. With greasy hair, smoke stained teeth and clothes quite frankly I am sure the local Hooker wouldn't wear. "We will be making a decision soon", "We will be in touch", "Oh we are taking applications and interviewing, but we have no openings right now"! I am sick of it. I know there is a job for me but where is it? I have been looking so long! I am exhausted!
     I am sick of out there, but home, no relief. What expenses can I cut, what can I sell? Random thoughts, fragments fleeting in and out of my mind. And tears, bursting from nowhere, without warning. Surprising, for now there is little feeling. Numbness, I suppose. The inability to feel. There is no emotion now. Walk through the days only to get through them. Close my eyes, feel his touch. Dammit!

Monday

     Friday, January 1, 2010 was the end. Yet, it was day one. My chest began to tighten as he spoke those words over the phone, pounding heartbeats sent blood rushing through my veins but my head felt light and my body shook. Each draw of breath, each inhale, felt like crushing weight and each exhale brought sharp jabs of pain like knives ripping at my heart. I was cold, but not from the winter chill. So weak I had to sit. My thoughts were racing, my mind screaming, this can't be true and the tears dancing at the edges of my eyes pushed forward and fell unnoticed. Choking words down, I tried to be brave, tried to be calm. Too broken, too hurt, give in. Let him go.

     Saturday, January 2 brought no peace. My night had been long and restless with moments that passed as slowly as the long, seemingly endless summer days I remembered as a child. Nothing I did eased the throbbing pain in my head and the black night of the dark room could not coax my mind to quiet enough for the blessing of sleep. And with morning came no relief. I looked at the phone, begging it to ring. Praying the terrible feeling I had experienced was just a nightmare. I lay in our bed, reaching out, stretching my fingers for the feel of his shirt. The one he always left for me with the pungent scent I loved. It was there, beside me as it was every morning. I pulled it to me. Burying my face in the soft fabric, my eyes closed, I inhaled deeply. It was him. That scent of him. A mixture of cologne and the wonderful deep scent of the man I love. I lay motionless for what felt like minutes but was more than an hour. Then the soft melody of the ring tone reserved for his calls brought me to reality. With a shaking hand I reached out, hoping for his words to be full of emotion and love, all the while knowing the despair I felt was not going to end with this call.

     The day wore on slowly, a holiday, people everywhere celebrating the coming of a new year. But not here. Not in this house. I wandered the empty rooms like a restless animal. Unable to concentrate on any one thing for more than a few minutes. First tears, uncontrollable tears, then an eerie calm. A roller coaster of emotions none of which could be rationalized. No thought. Just tears and calm then rage and anger. But mostly, hurt. That never ending pain. That heavy feeling. A feeling of loss.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

     Sleep. That would be a blessing. If I could only sleep then maybe I would wake from this nightmare. Yes, we talk. A couple of times a day. I try to be cheerful, to be positive. I listen to the chatter of the topics we had always talked about. The loads he picks up, the places he drops the loads and all the people he meets. Small talk. But a blessing as well. The sound of his voice. I close my eyes as I listen. I can see him there with me. We used to have coffee in the morning, he would chatter about the events of the week and I would share the news of our grandchildren. How I miss those moments of sharing.  Does the pain end? When?