Dreams

Dreams have always fascinated me, I think that is why the topic of my attempted first novel is dreams. However I have mixed emotions of mine lately.

I had my third biggest breakdown tonight. I came home to clean and get away from well meaning people... I need my reality check, that while everyone else's life goes on... mine can stop for a period... because in so many ways it has. I came home and another light bulb blew... and I could NOT undo the screw to replace it... HE always could, then I had to jump down to change it, HE always lifted me... I broke down and ran through the house screaming... sobbing... until I collapsed on the couch exhausted emotionally.

I ignored the phone calls and just slept, and I dreamt of him... it wasn't exactly him... but him. and as slightly grotesque as he was in this dream, I longed for him, and didn't want to wake up (he had awoken and climbed out of his casket before it was buried)If something jarred me awake I would will myself to go back to sleep just to get another glimpse of this copy of my husband.

I woke up physically aching and just long for him to hold me and make me better... I fill like a huge piece of me has been ripped away... and I long for it back.

I thought a week alone would be good, prepare myself for coping with life alone for my children... but with time I ache more and more, not less. Perhaps death is like a mountain, you have to peak before you can heal? But maybe it is me holding myself back from healing, I don't want to heal, he is my life, and now he is gone...