I must have.
I tell everyone.
I tell them not for attention or the cordial "I'm sorry" that usually follows.
I say it to get it out of the way.
To avoid it coming up awkwardly later.
I also say it so people don't think I'm a 36 year old single mother of four teenages.
I don't know why that bothers me, but it does.
And, by the way, I guess I am a 36 year old single mother of four teenagers.
I usually don't give a rat's fat ass what people think about me, except for that.
He died and left them fatherless.
He died and left me husbandless.
Never coming back.
Me, two girls, two boys.
We were six.
Now we're five.
I don't like odd numbers.
I didn't think it was possible to think about someone as many times a day as I think of him.
Where do we go from here?
How do we start over?
It's creeping up on the whopper two year mark.
I've been with him since a month before my 18th birthday.
I've been without him for almost 21 months.
Damn him for leaving us.
I had a moment over the weekend where I wanted to text him.
That only lasted a split second then my belly sank.
I almost cried in front of my boss today.
She asked me something about him.
I think I hid it well.
He is engrained in my inner being.
Not my 'soul'...I don't believe in souls.
He is a part of me.
He is a part of us.
Without him, there would've never been an 'us.'
It's like his blood flows through me.
Five, not six.