The Light Switch

Warning: this post includes real talk about real feelings of grief.
Life has a funny way of providing you with immense joy and immense pain. I used to be one of the happiest people I knew. I encouraged others. I believed in dreams. I couldn’t wait to see what the future held for me, for us.
Now any thought of the future hurts.
Literally thinking about tomorrow, my birthday, holidays and milestones that we were about to cross off our lists sends me into a waterworks display.
I’m in a dark place, but it’s not one that I want anyone to worry over. I ache every day for my husband, but I have no desire to harm myself. I must admit If God decided to reunite us tomorrow I wouldn’t be mad. But since I’m here, I’m trying to make the best of it.

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Those Vows.

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I thought I understood.

“All that is mine is yours.”

“In sickness and in health.”

“’till death do us part.”

Those vows.

Five years ago they seemed so black and white. We meant every word, and those sitting in the pews in the Duke Chapel that June 4th afternoon were to hold us accountable. The problem is what happens when what seems black and white becomes gray?

You see, nothing makes sense now.

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