Vanity & Sin

Shattered

Grief is like a personality disorder. One day you wake up ready to take on the world, the next...you are awaiting sleep to dream away the pain that swells inside you. It's utterly amazing and horrific all at the same time. Today has been one of those days.

I decided to take off for a drive, I drove to Chandler - where Matt and I first lived, past the club we met in - all the little places that hold so many memories. Upon returning home, I decided to watch 'The Notebook', our favorite love story. Duh. And now my only thoughts are of that morning I got the phone call.

August 22nd replays through my head like a broken record - the phone call from my father-in-law to turn on the news and what hotel did he work at? The frantic anticipation of Matt's phone call to wake me up that never came. He always called me at 5:30am when he worked nights to wake me up and tell me he loved me. Instead I sat in our garage staring at his parking spot waiting for the detectives to arrive. The phone call to the police who wouldn't let me hang up, and text messaging my mom because I was afraid to hear her voice. I didn't cry until I saw my in-laws and my brother. My whole world collapsed in their arms. I collapsed and a huge part of me is still lying on the ground in tears over the death of her husband. The other part is still that zombie walking around with smiles and laughter - pretending to be strong when she is only shattered on the inside. I am tired of pretending. I am tired of being strong.

Life doesn't mean the same it once did. There is no tomorrow, only today and what we make of it. Plans will be broken, promises unkept...dreams forgotten, lost within the tears we shed. So many people out there just don't realize that for the reality it is. Maybe if we did, grief wouldn't be as hard - our pain as great. Maybe the loved ones we lose through time would never doubt the love that was bestowed upon them in life. Maybe my heart wouldn't doubt that he knew I loved him. I couldn't tell him enough that night. He probably thought I was out of my mind talking to him all night long - just to tell him how much I loved him, and how I couldn't sleep without him. All the wonderful things I was planning on doing to the house. The things that we were planning together. Are all gone, they were stolen from us - my life as I knew it was taken in a single breath and the pull of a trigger. In all honesty, I absolutely hate my life. Hopefully, I will get over that in time. But I will sadly stay in that state of mind until I can believe in life again, and in hopes and dreams. Because they don't mean shit to me anymore. No matter how hard I try - that innocent hope, and naive girl are gone forever. I thought we would grow old together. I wanted to die when he died. At 80, wrinkled and toothless...but here I am, with my heart broken into a million pieces. Alive and alone.