There’s a growing void in here, a gathering emptiness.
I don’t want to go back to the fucking hospital and I don’t want my son to wake up from his nap with me gone, not knowing when he will see me again.
I don’t want to have to practically force my husband’s fucking mother to go visit her son in the hospital on Christmas.
I don’t want this fucking life, I DON’T FUCKING WANT IT. I can scream and cry and go numb and it won’t change a fucking thing because cancer doesn’t give a rotten shit.
I don’t want to sob quietly in my room because I don’t want people to hear me, because I AM ALWAYS AROUND PEOPLE.
I don’t want to return your phone call or text message or email or go by your house for food. I want to crawl into a hole in my head until I can gather it all back together somehow, I don’t know how yet.
I don’t want to convince Mary to visit her son in the hospital on Christmas! The plan had been that she visits him and then when she got back I would then go to spend the rest of Christmas with him in the hospital so he wasn’t alone. She left and I thought she went to see him, but she went to church instead. When I asked when she was going to visit him she said their was something wrong with the car and she didn’t feel comfortable driving. I told her to take my truck and about an hour later she left. She stayed with him for about an hour and came back. Why do I have to convince these people to care about him? To show him support and love? He can’t do this with just me – he needs them.
I guess I go thru the motions, I guess I pack up my shit to return to the hospital and first stop off at a house to eat even tho I’m not hungry and would rather sit in a dark room drinking and crying. I will sit instead in a dark hospital room.
It’s just getting harder, harder, harder.
I miss my husband who isn’t disoriented from drugs and fevers and cancer. I miss spending time alone with my son, I miss myself. I miss all of us together, oh fuck oh fuck I miss it being just us three.
ad astra per aspera 