The Portal: Portal-ity Thoughts

As the year 3 mark approaches – I find myself in a quiet and melancholy place. Year one was shock and horror, people, appointments with the DA – almost a blur. I learned how to listen to books to put me to sleep – as I couldn’t read, and I am still struggling to finish one book the old fashioned way, although I’ve started many. Brain fog, disbelief, searching, what-ifs. It was a year of people not knowing what to do with us, of mountains of tears and extreme emotions.  Of anger and profound sadness.  A year where food lost its flavor and coffee became all that tasted good.    I avoided people, places, and questions.  It was a year that I couldn’t talk about him without crying, where I dreaded any kind of get together because of the questions that were asked and because of the reality of the lives we were living.  I said no.  I know it hurt people’s feelings, but how could they possibly understand how a wedding or a graduation party ripped our heart...

Crappy. [edited] Is that what you wanted to hear?  This is the worst possible thing that I can think of living through, and yet here we are.  Teetering between reality and a dream. So if you don't want to know how I'm really doing, stop reading now, or ask the Minnesota nice question, "Hey, how are you", and I'll say "Good, you?" and we can both get on with our day.   Please, don't continue asking me (true story), because, you will end up with a sobbing pile of goo, and I don't really think that's what you want. Do you?   If you do, then invite yourself over, bring a Venti Cinnamon Dolce from Starbucks, and maybe some Special K Bars, and we can discuss my deepest darkest feelings.  You're still going to get a sobbing pile of goo, but I won't be out in public, and I'll get a coffee:).  I'm afraid it's going to be the answer for a very long time.  We are all going to have good moments and bad moments.  Good hour...