Can someone please...

...explain to me that sobbing into my pillow at 10:30 pm is not a helpful or useful tactic. my pillow is now soaked. I can't breathe through my nose. My eyes are burning. And it's all just the same old shit. This is not helpful, danna. NOT helpful.

For no reason, all of a sudden, after I turned off my light and rolled over to sleep, it came over me like a giant giant wave.

I'm alone. I'm all alone.

My bed is a California King. It wasn't supposed to be for me alone.

I want to be with Mike.

Or someone else who is wonderful.

I want baxter to have two parents.

I want to feel like I am part of a team.

It is crazy that this is my life. Sometimes I just can't believe it. I think back to 2 or 3 years ago and I can't cannot fucking believe that this is my life. This big house. This empty bed. My dead husband in a cardboard box on my bureau. My engagement ring in a box next to him.

My son who is so smart and so savvy that when he is having a tantrum he says through tear streaked cheeks, "I miss my DADDY!" And everyone around gasps for a moment. I always look down at him and want to say in reply, "Kid, you have no fucking idea. You have NO idea."

In the car on the way home today he saw the moon and said, "Daddy! Are you having fun up there? We miss you." Once at home, he looked up at the moon and asked me, "Mama, if Daddy came home from the moon, would he still be sick?"

I don't know, bax.

And yet, I know that now that I've written this and it's out there, I'll feel a little bit lighter. I know I'll fall asleep and get up in the morning. I'll feed bax breakfast. I'll get ready for work. I'll drop bax at school and drive to UD. I'll prep for class, I'll teach. I'll get soup from from the cafe downstairs. I'll drive back up 295, pick up Baxter, cook him dinner, give him a bath, read him books a go to bed again. And once again will be lying here in this bed. Hopefully I will feel better than I do at this moment.

One highlight of my day today was that it was a dear friend's 30th birthday. He's a private person, so I won't use his name. But he was my first big love. My high school boyfriend of a year and a half who became a dear dear friend as the years went by. He lives in Philly now. Big time doctor man. And while I struggle to keep my head on straight about his platonic role in my life, I have come to so enjoy the time that we have together and with Baxter. He is one of the few people in my life that feels comfortable instructing or reprimanding Baxter (e.g.; "Don't talk to your mother like that."). It's an amazing thing to have backup when I'm so used to going without.

So, today I sent him a big birthday balloon bouquet to the hospital where he's a resident. And given that he doesn't love being the center of attention, this was pretty much his nightmare... and he had to bike home with them. And even though he was publicly humiliated, I know he felt loved. And that makes me feel good.

Another highlight of my day was dinner with Carrie. She and I (and Bax) hung up a purple-light-string-spiderweb in the front window that "looks so spooky" (quoted from Baxter). She, too, chimes in as a parental figure - giving me a couple more peaceful bites of dinner when she says, "Baxter. Dude. Bum IN the seat."

Thank god for them. And for Michelle. And Susan. And Heide. And the other many friends who are returning characters in my crazy life.

It's funny. now that I have written all this, I've stopped crying and my bed doesn't feel quite so intimidatingly large and lonely.

Thank you.

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