Hashing it Out

Clay recognized that I want very badly to begin suppressing my feelings. I’m afraid of being judged for still grieving my loss. I am still grieving, though. That’s the fact. Nobody who hasn’t experienced the loss of a spouse can ever understand how deep the hurt goes. I don’t cry all of the time, but I am certainly wracked with anxiety absolutely every moment of every day.

The anxiety I feel when I am on my way to my therapy session is almost unbearable these days. I don’t like going. It hurts. I feel like Clay would never understand if I started crying and couldn’t stop. I don’t like crying. I don’t feel in control when I am crying and that embarrasses me.

There are so many men out there who have wives and girlfriends. I hear their halves of the phonecalls and I wish they were talking to me. That’s the way Chris used to talk to me. I wonder if anybody was listening to his end of the conversation, longing to be the woman on the other end of the phone. Men can be really sweet. I don’t think I have ever entertained that idea before.

If I call Clay and tell him I changed my mind about wanting some time off, he’ll think I’m nuts. I suppose I’d be talking to the right person in that case, though, right?