sad introspection
I sometimes say I'm fundamentally broken and can't be fixed. I've spent the last hour crying it and feeling it heavy.
sad introspection
So you know like if you have a car or computer or whatever. And there's stuff wrong with it. It's broken, and you know you can't fix it with the resources you have. But you can patch it up, and make it run anyway, knowing there's limitations, and knowing more things will break, but you can patch those up too. You get used to it, forget. Sometimes runs good as new, though still broken.
That's been my life since Marc died 17 years ago and it hurrts so much and I'm so tired of it.
sad introspection
I had a job, a career path once. Not great pay but steady. A house, even. Not the greatest, but it was mine. I had a lover, a life mate, a better half. Not a husband, because back then we couldn't imagine a future where that could happen. Things were going okay.
One day, construction accident, doa at hospital, he was gone.
sad introspection
I was a zombie for a while. Lost the job, lost the house, lost the city. Moved far away to a parent's basement, more or less. I'm still scared of everything.
Not a week goes by I don't have a dream where it was all a mistake, he's not gone, he's right here, and everything's going to be okay. Then I wake up, and he's not, and it's not, and it hurts.
sad introspection
He's been gone three times as long as I even knew him but it still affects me
