My kidlet has been gone a month.
I’ve had ‘compliments’ handling this from my bosses.
Truth is – I’m still rocked. My entire world is rocked. I hide it, then:
Bawl like a baby alone.
I have only been able to do the minimum in his room. I can’t be in there for long.
There is so MUCH to do.
Then there’s the living room. His Christmas stocking along with some contents of it are still there. Plus, ‘the sock’.
I don’t want to erase my kid!!
The rest of the room is pristine.
My bird’s sock.
Anyway, so, I go to the laundromat early today … Big mistake. Ended up waiting 20 minutes because again, my Laundry Lady didn’t show. Her boss did, again. Last week, I didn’t go – because, I didn’t have Nic’s clothes to wash. Mine weren’t enough to warrant a trip.
ALL I’ve done this weekend was watch Netflix (This weekend is ‘Saving Grace’ which, I can totally relate to.)
It has touched me on SO many levels I can’t explain.
I guess I’ll try.
I identify with Grace.
I’ve lived a life similar, only, without the whole ‘being a cop and saving people’ thing. But, I like to think I’ve contributed to someone or something.
I posted the theme song to my wall today …
Tangent – sorry.
What triggers me missing Nic?
Only having one basket of clothes for the laundromat.
Me taking a shower and the setting that I use is still on.
Me coming home and the place looks the same as when I left it.
Me coming home and there is no other car.
Me not doing some dishes anyway because I miss the mess.
And mostly, just me, missing the love of my life.
What scares me is, that because of my past I’ve hardened my heart.
Gets me through each day.
I may break down sometimes, and when I do, it’s rough.
But, I’ve been broken so many times to the point I dismiss someone’s existence. Or, their part in mine.
So, what does that mean for my son?
Why do I get ‘kudos’ for not falling apart for my kidlet?
I have a barrier so huge and so strong and so ‘HuuuuGE” Trump would be jealous. Use my wall as ‘the’ fucking ridiculous wall and NO ONE would get in.
(Hate him by the way)
The people do let in by the way, surprise me. Had a friend not long ago comment on Facebook.
As it was sweet, and kind, and ‘Amanda’ past.
I have his SOCK.
CALL ME DOBBY