Sing

Singing is an act of freedom, of art and of the creation of beauty. Creating music is a joyous event in life and extremely instrumental in calming the beast and consoling one’s demons. Beyond that, singing is just plain fun and releases me from all pain.

I have yet to sing out loud in my apartment. I don’t practice the way I should. I want to be a great singer, just for myself, for my own satisfaction and to make others happy when they come to hear me sing.

I’m frozen again. Singing out loud, now that chris is dead, seems to be an atrocity which states that I can be happy without him. Even though that’s a true statement, it’s an extremelyl painful admission. I don’t want to be happy without him. I want him to come back. How can I sing out loud when singing out loud is letting go a little bit more. I’m scared. I’m so afraid that if I let him go, his memory will go careening into space, into a black hole, never to be seen or heard from again.

I want to sing more than almost anything in this world, but I don’t want to sing more than I want to have my husband back in my life loving me and accepting my love in return.

How can I sing when singing has come to mean that I have no troubles, that nothing horrible has happened.

I should sing. I know I should sing. I’ll keep trying. That’s my promise to myself and to Chris’ soul and spirit. He won’t be here in person to hear me, but I’ll just have to hope that he will always hear me as long as I continue to sing.

My Creej. My love. My life.