Look at that picture. One of our first and then our last together. Six years, an entire life, a home and a family- gone. And all it took was enough pressure on a trigger to send a bullet careening through my husband’s head, shattering his skull and our future together.
I wish you could feel how badly this hurts, this emotional turmoil that manifests into a physical hurt. This weight on your chest, making it hard to breathe. Choking on the lump in your throat, willing yourself not to cry because there’s too much to do. Crying, no- wailing because once you finally let the tears come, they overtake you and you’re screaming and gasping for breath because it just hurts so God damn much.
I have chewed the skin off my lip until it is raw and bleeding.
Bitten my finger nails there is no nail left.
Cried until my tear ducts ran dry.
Screamed until I lost my voice.
I am filled with such rage at Sean for leaving me without any warning or goodbye, leaving me pregnant and alone. Leaving me to fight for custody of Luke and not even having the fucking courtesy to ensure that I could afford to take care of both children. I am angry at myself for not seeing the signs, doing more to help him. For choosing a father for my children that would abandon them so callously.
Do you understand how hard it is to be so furious with someone you love? For betraying your absolute trust, for taking your marriage vows to honor and protect and just shitting all over them? Sean told me he couldn’t wait to grow old with me, to sit in our cottage in the moutains, have the grandkids for Christmas. He wanted a huge Christmas tree right next to a big stone fireplace, he wanted to write. He was writing a book when he died- another happy ending I’ll never get to experiance. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
On second thought, no. I wouldn’t wish this life for anyone.