I didn't realize that I was feeling so lonely. I was in denial, and honestly, the haze that fell over me like a dark cloud made me almost unreachable. Dealing with the loss of my wife was not something I was ready to do, and I checked out for a while, unable to face anyone.
I have three kids whom I adore, and they need me to be their dad. They've lost their mom; they should not have to lose me too, so I am trying.
Kelly, our oldest is entering the sixth grade this year for her first year of middle school. Our middle child, Jack, he's eight, and pretty much the stereotypical middle child; not to say he is hard to get along with, it's just that he's a clown and jealous of his little brother, Louis, who is five.
I met their mother, Anita in a bar during our college years in Fayetteville, Arkansas. (Go Razorbacks!) We loved going to the games and boy, did we have fun. She was smart and funny, and could make me laugh so hard that every time I went to take a drink, I'd wind up spitting it through my nose, or aspirating. She'd laugh, and it became a game to her which she always seemed to win.
She was the love of my life, and when I lost her, my world changed in more ways than I ever expected.
That was three weeks ago, and it seems that time just stopped that day. My kids are grieving, but I think they're doing better than I am; at least right now.
I've always heard people say that kids are resilient, but I'm not a big believer of that piece of shit theory. Sorry, but cliches like that piss me off. It's like the one that goes "money can't buy you happiness," but it sure makes being miserable easier, doesn't it?
Kids don't deal with loss the way adults do. They can't process their feelings, so they put their pain away for later, burying it deep within them until it eventually it bubbles to the surface.
In any case, they seem to be doing alright for now. I just hope that there are no long-term emotional issues they'll have to face; although I expect it.
The reason I'm putting pen to paper about all of this is two-fold. First, my therapist suggested it. He called it a 'project' to help me work my feelings out about things. Whatever, I will give it a shot.
And for my kids, not just for me. I need to be whole for them.
In losing Anita, I seem to have also lost myself. I mean, I'm a proud guy. I've always been the one others call when they have problems. I was in the Navy and did two deployments to Iraq, so I'm not a crybaby, I'm a realist. The diagnosis was made, and we sought treatment. We did all we could, but cancer is an invitation to the other side to which, in most cases, the RSVP can not be withdrawn.
Nothing motivates me now. It's as if I'm on autopilot, and everything I do is just part of my programming. I haven't even gone back to work yet. It'd probably help me to keep busy, but I can only think of my precious wife and how much I miss her just being here.
Those few seconds in the morning when I first wake up, are the only peace I get.
Until I remember...
Journal Entry Number Two:
Anita came to me last night. It wasn't my imagination, and I didn't dream it, although everyone would say I had. I can hardly believe it myself.
She lay down on the bed next to me, and we held one another for a long time talking about the kids, our love and how much we missed each other. The intimacy we've always shared did not die with her, and I could feel her breath on my face; her lips were as warm and tender as they were before she left me.
For a brief moment in time, she was with me in our marital bed, touching my face, kissing my lips, and laying so close to me that our bodies fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. It was as if she was never gone.
"I love you so much," I said as the tears of disbelief and love flowed from my eyes. "I've missed you so badly, baby." Holding her close, she put her hand on the side of my face and leaned up over me slightly.
"I've missed you too, Mike," she cried, unable to hold back her tears. "I want you back so badly."
Needing her more than I could have ever imagined, I rolled her onto her back, passionately kissing as she reached down to wrapped her soft, feminine hand around my cock. With a slight squeeze of her hand, our eyes locked as she began to rub my balls and slowly stroked my manhood until I was hard and erect. For a moment time stood still, and I forgot about all the pain and loss.
"I've always loved the way your cock feels," she giggled. "Do you like this?" she asked me, teasing and knowing full well that she truly had me by the balls. As she stroked my shaft I could feel the throbbing of my erection grow, and she used my pre-cum to slide her hand easily up and down. "I want you inside me, Mike," she told me, smiling sweetly.
Her nipples were erect as she climbed on top of me, and I could feel her warm wetness enveloping my organ as she sat down on it, squeezing me with her tight channel, and lifting her hips up and down as I held on to them and grabbed her supple ass.
I was in euphoric bliss as my body tensed up as she throttled her body down on me. Pulling her close, I rolled her onto her back and began to fuck her hard and fast, desperately pounding her until we were both frozen in pleasure, joined in orgasmic bliss. I filled her with my cum as she wrapped her legs tight around by body. I could feel her fingernails digging into my back as made love. The final rapture and tenderness we shared calmed my soul, and I held her until I drifted off to sleep.
When I awoke, she was gone, but it was real, and I hope to see her again very soon.
Journal Entry Number Three:
Time still moves along, according to the clock sitting on her nightstand.
