30 Weeks

Hi Sexy,

I'm sitting here going through the memories tonight... only I never wanted memories... I only wanted you.

I miss you Sexy.

Widow's brain is seeping in... I sat at a four-way stop sign in Idaho Falls on Saturday waiting for the light to change... until the nice man in the really big truck pulled up behind me and honked the horn... I really have no clue how long I was sitting there for... tonight I lost the phone...

I had Ruffles and chocolate for dinner tonight because it was the safest option in the kitchen... once I figured out at lunchtime that the ice cream will and does melt if put away in the microwave the night before...

Something smells like it is burning... I don't remember starting anything... but that doesn't mean I shouldn't get up and check...

I miss my brain. I miss the confident intelligent woman you knew... maybe she'll come back at some point... God, I hope it's soon...

The stores are full of Valentine's Day stuff. Shopping was a bit more than overwhelming this week, despite the fact that I drove 90 miles just so I wouldn't have to step into the local KMart or Smiths... anything not to see those two parking lots and stores right now... I don't think I'll be shopping again until after the 14th. I've not been "single" on a Valentine's holiday for so many years that I don't know what to do with myself... I actually had a gift for you in my cart before I remembered that it wouldn't be wise and prudent to purchase it seeing as you wont be home to enjoy it... yes, I still catch myself forgetting that you're not going to walk through the door anytime soon.

I still find myself on an emotional roller coaster... I cry if I have a good day because you don't get to experience days anymore... I cry if I have a bad day because I don't get to lean on your shoulder at the end of the day... I cry in the shower... I cry in the bed... I cry in the car... it seems there is no where that is immune to seeing my tears... a few weekends ago I was crying myself to sleep when the little voice in the room (a/k/a Kidd) piped up with, "Tara, you're okay." I thought he was asking me if I was going to be okay, so I told him I was fine... and in only the way a child could... he said, "no, I said you are okay. It's okay, you'll be okay." I wish I could believe that.

I still can't get past loosing you... not this way... not when we were so close to the life we'd waited so patiently for...

Love always,