I’m missing Matt so much. I can’t put it into words. Went to the Brewhouse with Ryan tonight (2-4-1 Sundays) and after dropping him off at his mom’s, I am full of the emotions that come from having it hammered home that Matt is not here anymore. Going out is all well and good, but no one is here to keep me company, or comfort me, or anything. It hurts SO BADLY when I know that all I need to make me feel better is Matt hugging me, kissing my cheek. Four months ago this need would have been met. Easily.
And there’s nothing to do now except cry. I’m not about to go pick up boys at bars because I’m lonely – I know that won’t help. Because I want Matt back. I want someone who is going to be in love with me regardless of ANYTHING. It’s so…so……soooo fucking lonely when you go from having this need met all the time every day (on demand basically), to not having it met at all.
Sometimes the thought occurs to me that life isn’t going to get better. I remember all the effort I put into dating before meeting Matt, and how lucky I felt that I had FINALLY found someone amazing who was in love me (and I was in love with him). He was THE person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with – not the rest of HIS life like it turned out. And Matt was so much better than anyone I had ever dated. I know I won’t ever meet anyone like him again (which is one reason I love Ryan so much).
I just don’t know what to do sometimes. I don’t know how to cope. I’ve always tended to understate my situation, so when I tell myself that my husband killed himself less than 4 months ago, it sounds outrageous sometimes. So … instead of over-thinking the situation, I just DO. I don’t know what to do, so I do whatever comes most naturally – missing Matt all the time obviously, but being distracted from the pain. I don’t understand how he could have left me. He could have gotten a disability check for his depression, and he wouldn’t have had to go to work every day. I suspect that being too sick to go to work would have been worse for him though, probably.
Oh God, it hurts so badly.
2 thoughts on “missing”
Oh, Erin. Oh, everything sometimes.