It's been over a year now, and sometimes it feels as though this second year hurts more than the first.
The haze is gone; I can now see through the once thick fog that clouded my mind.
People have disappeared out of my life, others just say the same things that I've heard over and over for the past year. I'm expected, and I expect from myself, to be working properly again. I should have my house together, I should be organized. But, I'm not. I overcommit myself and then stress out, because I think I'm ready.
But, I'm not.
He should be home for a year on Wednesday.
But, he's not.
I just want to be wrapped in his arms again, and listen to his heart beat as I lie next to his chest. I want to cry on his shoulders. I want to tell him my every thought, every feeling, and every fear.
But, I can't.
I'm asking those who are in my life to be a little more patient with me. You've all been amazing, but I need more time. I'm not there yet. I'm not together. I'm not ok.
But, I will be.