I'm not sure if it's the effect of Melbourne, making me feel like myself again, or if it's the weather...
Spring has sprung here, it seems. A false spring, I think- I could not be that lucky. It's going to get cold again. That's the way life works.
Whatever it is, the numb bubble I've been living in since January has popped, leaving sticky shreds of sadness over everything that close to me.
The beach is no comfort, it justs hurts my heart. All I can think is there is someone missing here, someone who should be feeling the sunshine on his back and the wrmth in the air.
Instead, he's out there, floating, in the ocean. And it's cold out there, I know, I dipped my feet in the water just today.... somewher out there, it's always cold.
Suddenly, all these things I was afraid of forgetting.... I can not get away from them.
I hear Tony's voice in my head, talking to me, talking to our children. I heard him today, so proud of his son, who is toilet training hiself with minimal assistance from his mother....
It takes me by surprise, my children growing. Time passing.
The things Tony has not born witness to, piling up.
Why can I feel him so close, suddenly? It hurts. This hurts, more than being numb.
I've gone from months of not crying, a dry spell, to crying every day.
My internal voice has changed. Up until now, when I thought about my husband, a little voice in my head would scream to stop, that he was dead and he meant to leave me, he never loved me at all.
Something has changed. Now, I think of my husband and that little voice still screams 'Stop!', but only because it hurts. Because he loved us, and he should be here, watching his children grow... we should be a family still.
My Plan B, it's not working. I am so desperately lonely here. When I came here, it was craving solitary healing and time away from everyone.
And now, I'm craving family and freinds and familiarity. To be closer to the people who love me, and my children, to be cosseted, if people will cosset me....
The anxiety attacks I used to suffer from, the hyperventilating, whooping panic attacks that have been so strangely absent since Tony passed away... they are back, almost every afternoon at 3 o'clock....
It's the time of day Tony would have been home, you see. Would have walked in through our sunny back kitchen doors and given me a kiss and a hug, and I would have asked him about his day. We'd discuss the beautiful weather, how nice it was, how much we were looking forward to warmer nights and later daylight... our favorite time of year, when we'd sit together in our backyard courtyard and discuss our lives and kids....
And he'd delight in his children waking, take them swimming in our spa while I took an hour or so to myself.
And spring, this weather... it makes the memories so damn real, I can cut myself with them.
Fuck.
Right now... maybe the shock is wearing off. Maybe I've just un-numbed myself. Whatever.
But right now, I miss everything so much- my husband, my friends, my family, my life as it was.... I'm bleeding on the inside.