Going to see the lawyer. Time to deal with probate. I don’t think I can do this. But I have to. I’m so tired of doing things I don’t think I can do. I’ve always faced things…took care of what need be. This is different, that’s all. Every step I take, I the more dead he becomes.
Just last night, I felt I was making good progress in distancing myself from the misery of it all. This morning, that misery rains down like bricks. I don’t want to go. I do not want to go.
Please, God…I can’t face his death today. My heart feels broken in a million pieces. He was a horrible husband and, in the end, I learned he wasn’t really my friend. So, I don’t understand why this won’t stop, but it won’t. To me, he’s that cool guy I met cruising the boulevard with my friend. He’s the scared young man waiting for me at the alter as Dad led me down the aisle. He’s the best father I ever knew. If those guys could die, maybe he would, too. But guys like that live forever. As they should.