Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Army Wives (and 300!)

301 to be exact.  When I started this blog I never imagined that so many people would read it.  I was pleasantly surprised when I logged on this morning to see that my followers had passed the 300 mark.  I want to thank all of you for reading my story and passing it along.  It is so important to me to tell people our story and as time goes on it warms my heart to see how many people are interested in it.  Not to mention the support I receive here.  Much love to you all!

I'm sure most of you military spouses are sucked into good ole Army Wives.  I've been watching from day one and we all knew what we were in for last night.  That show tugged at my heart as it was a lot of flashback and how I remember things.  The thing that bugs me is about 10 days worth of stuff was packed into 45 minutes.  People pass off the assumption that they know what it's like now that they have seen an episode about it on television.  No.  No you don't.  Or the fact that people say how they cried and cried and they couldn't even imagine.  You're right.. you couldn't.  If you think watching it on tv is bad.. ha!  Try an hours worth in real life. 

I think it kinda bugs me sometimes to know that people say "Oh, that breaks my heart I could never even imagine going through that.. I feel so bad for the widows."  Right.  But what bugs me is knowing in the back of people's minds they are saying "thank God it's not me."  I know if roles were reversed I'd be saying it too, but I hate knowing what people really have going on in their head.  You saw glimpses into what it might be like.  Sure a lot of things were right and it gave you a decent idea, but there is so much more to it than that. 

I recently started writing a memoir for class, which I plan on changing because I don't like it; but it is so incredibly painful to rehash those memories.  Until I started writing this I had no idea how much I had pushed that pain away in a place where I didn't dig it out.  But writing it on paper.. trying to relive it.. is like breaking my heart all over again.  I actually had to stop writing because I don't know that I could have handled anymore and to be quite honest I didn't remember much more after that because it quickly became a living fog.  I'm going to share what I have with you (it is not the final product by any means), but I would really like some feedback on it.  I would really appreciate it :)

So here's my memoir about the morning of September 2nd:

It was a beautiful morning, the sun was shining bright and I could feel its rays through the high window in my room.  I rolled around in my bed as I heard my cell phone ringing thinking it was my alarm.  Of course, another phone call and someone waking me up before my alarm.  Grumpy and tired I rolled over and picked up my phone.  I saw it wasn’t my boyfriend; it was his Dad, which was even more disappointing because if I’m getting up early it at least better be a call from Afghanistan.  I missed the call so I listened to the voicemail that said to call him back.  Something was off.  Something didn’t feel right.  I frantically hit send on my phone and it started ringing.  “Chrissy,” started off the worst conversation of my life.  I sat up in my bed, clearly something was wrong.  Maybe he was just hurt.  Maybe something happened to his mom. Maybe they needed something.  I yelled, “what is going on?”  More than once.  I wish I had never gotten a response.  His voice trembled as I heard, “Chrissy, Josh was killed this morning.”  Oh, no. No. No. No. This was not going to happen to me.  No way.  It can’t be.  I kept telling him he was lying to me.  He wasn’t lying.  The casualty assistance officer was there.  It was real.  A military spouses worst nightmare was about to become my life.  He hung up the phone and I sat in my room.  I couldn’t even cry.  Thoughts raced through my head, what do I do?  Is this real?  I took off out of my bed and down the stairs.  I, hysterically, went through the rooms yelling for my Nana.  She was putting my little cousins on the bus outside, but she heard me and came through the door asking what was wrong.  “Nana, they killed him.” I hit the floor.  And burst into tear.  It was real.
As I sat there on the floor holding my Nana’s leg like I had nothing left she asked me over and over again if I was sure.  Was I sure?  Maybe it’s a mistake?  It could be.  Maybe I’m dreaming.  Nope.  I’m wide-awake.  Is this really happening to me?  Is this what this feels like? Because I didn’t see it happening this way.  I managed to text a few of my friends.  All they said was “Josh died.”  I couldn’t get anything more than that out at the moment.  In between my tears I looked up seeing my five-year-old cousin peering around the corner with fear in her eyes wondering what was going on.  What was going on?  Mass chaos.  That’s what.  My nana had left me on the floor as I heard her call my aunt, who was on her way to work, telling her to come back home.  My great grandparents (who are 90 and 86) came flying in the door.  I could see the heartbreak and pain in their eyes.  No one knew what to say.  I cried.  And cried.  And cried.  For so long my Pap has fixed all my life problems.  But today.. he was just as helpless as I was.  A few minutes later my aunt came running around the corner with tears in her eyes.  She crouched down beside me on the floor hugging me as I rocked back and fourth.  Somehow I made it to the couch.  I remember sitting there.  Word had spread like wild fire.  I had facebook notifications going to my phone because while he was gone that was his way of waking me up if he didn’t have a phone.  I sat there.  Holding my phone.  Not even able to keep up with the calls, text messages, facebook notifications.  The pure panic and shock that I felt, was felt by others as well.  I thought for sure my phone was going to blow up.  I couldn’t even keep up with all of the messages coming through.  Before I knew it flowers were showing up at the door.  Flowers?  Come on people I haven’t even processed what is happening and you already have flowers at the door?  My dad came with my brother.  Watching his sweet little girl completely devastated willing to do whatever it takes to make it better.  I grabbed my laptop.  I remember emailing Dr. Fello and Dr. Creany, my professors for my classes the morning, telling them briefly and bluntly I won’t be there today. 
It was only a matter of time before the news stations caught wind.  Knocking on the door, calling my cell phone, driving around town looking for answers.  Go away.  They want me to admit this is real already?  I don’t think so.  I don’t even know what’s going on to be honest.  The bottomless, nauseous, pit in my stomach is over whelming.  I logged on to facebook.  A chat box popped up.  It was one of Josh’s good friends who was serving in Afghanistan.  His brother had died the year before.  As comforting as it was to talk to him for a few minutes I remember thinking how bad I felt for him when it happened.  Now its me?  Now I understand what it was like for him?  Not to be a jerk, but it was better when it was someone else.  I didn’t want it to be me.  We had a life planned.  We were supposed to get married.  We were supposed to have a family.  This deployment was the last of the Marine Corps.  Why?!  Why me?!  It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.  I don’t want it to happen this way.
That’s it.
I’m going back to sleep.  I slammed my laptop shut.  Grabbed my fuzzy blanket and my care bear who has never let me down my whole entire life.  I laid my head down on the pillow.  I remember feeling the throbbing and discomfort from the amount of tears I had cried that morning.  I closed my eyes.  I waited.  I cracked open an eye.  It was still happening.  I closed my eyes again.  Go to sleep, Chrissy.  Just go to sleep.  You’ll wake up and everything will be okay.
Before I knew it someone else was barging through the door.  I heard them talking to my aunt in the kitchen.  She came over and bent over by the couch.  I had to go to Josh’s parents.  The CACO (Casualty Assistance Officer) was going to be there shortly.  I argued about getting a shower.  I lost that battle as my aunt shoved me up the stairs.  I kept thinking really? Who gives a crap if I take a freakin shower right now?  Not me.  BUT I did it anyways to shut everybody up. 
I started getting myself together as I heard two of my friends at the door.  I talked to them for a few minutes but everyone was rushing me to get over there.  FINE.  You people need to relax I’ll get there when I get there.  I’m not the most prompt person when my whole life comes tumbling down.  I quietly got into the car.  I remember driving over and I swear every song that ever meant something came on the radio.  The tears strolled down my face as I passed through the roads I only ever took to see him.  I clung to the little stuffed pig in my lap.  It was his pig from when he had surgery as a tiny tot.  Mr. Piggy don’t fail me now.  Please make it better.  Right you psycho like a stuffed pig is going to fix your life right now.  Wishful thinking.
We pulled in.  His uncle was the first to meet me wrapping his arms around me, calling me “bud” just like he always did.  Then his mom.  She grabbed me and I cried.  I watched the black explorer with US Government on the license plate.  Two men in their Alphas.  They shut the car doors and walked toward the house.  His mom put her arm around me and walked in side.  I sat down in a chair closest to the two Marines.  Clinging to the pig in my lap.  I looked around.. his parents, two brothers, sister, and one uncle sat quietly in the room.  The Staff Sergeant opened his black folder and started to talk.  It was real.  My body went into a fog.. setting itself on auto pilot.. and I was about to start the hardest and worst journey of my life..

Thursday, March 24, 2011


My newest feeling on this craptastic journey.  Guilt.  And let me tell you it's not a fun one.  I don't even know why it suddenly hit me so hard.  I've been going out a little more because it's easier for me to be around people these days (I know back and forth).  When I go out and meet new people, they don't know my story.  They don't judge me.  The treat me like a "normal" (whatever that means anymore) person.  It's kinda nice.  I like it when I don't have to be "that girl."  But the guilt for crawling out of my little hole starts to get overwhelming.

I'll question why I'm still here and why you aren't.  How can I even think about enjoying myself when you're not here?  It makes me feel selfish.  I'll smile or laugh.  Then it hits you like "oh my god what am I doing."  It seems so wrong to feel "okay."  I guess before this happened to me I expected to be shriveled up in bed for the rest of my life.  Wasting away just waiting to die.  But it's not like that.

I know you and I know that you would never want that for me.  You would never want me to waste my life because you weren't here.  That's just how you were.. never selfish.  Everyone else came before you because you wanted us to be happy.  And really if roles were reversed.. I wouldn't want that for you either.  If you love someone you don't want them to suffer forever.  

But of course you have the judgmental assholes.  Believe me people.. just because you see a smile or a laugh doesn't mean that I'm over it.  It doesn't mean that I don't feel the pain and hurt.  Doesn't mean I stopped crying or forgot what happened.  I never will.  But at some point or another I have to slowly start living again.  As much as I would like it, the world never stops turning.  The world goes on whether you choose to go with it or not.  There is no pause, rewind, or fast-forward button.  It would be pretty sweet if there was, but it doesn't work that way. 

We have a choice to live our life.  You get one shot at it and you can either go with it and make the best of it or you can waste it.  It's up to you.  That's the amazing thing about you.. you knew that about life and you lived every second like it was your last.  You never wasted anytime because you knew the reality and how fragile life really is. You loved and you laughed.  You had fun.  21 years can be painfully short, but I know you didn't have a single regret.  That's what I always loved about you.  The way you lived your life. 

I remember last March when you were home for a week because of your Grandmas funeral.  That Saturday the weather was beautiful. Over 80 degrees and the sun was shining bright.  I remember that day because it was the first time in a long time we had some quality me and you time.  We went to lunch, played putt putt (which I won.. just in case you forgot), and got some Rita's.  A me and you day.  I don't know that I ever told you how much it meant to me.  I miss those days.

As much as I miss those days it reminds me of one thing: to live my life.  Don't waste time.  I still feel  you around me and I know that's why I have those "okay" days.  You don't want me to feel guilty or unhappy.  You want me to be happy and you're not going to be mad at me when I start living again.  It doesn't work that way when you love someone that much.

So guilty feelings.. please go away.  I slowly but surely want to start to be happy again even if it's just a little bit at a time (which I am totally okay with for now).  It's not an instant change, but something that will come with that dreaded word: time.

Thursday, March 17, 2011


Helps my mood. Drastically.

I've noticed lately that I feel a little better about the day when it's not dark and gloomy.  Living in Pennsylvania, you know the winters suck.  I could handle them if we at least got some sunlight.  But the countless days of clouds and gloom is a killer.  Not to mention it's dark at like 5 so that's no help either.

Today is different though.  The suns out and I feel okay.  I like my okay days and maybe today will even be good (I don't know yet). The bad days seem a little less and that alone makes me happy.  It's not any fun living life with a little rain cloud floating above your head.  You don't realize how happy you were until you can't get rid of your cloud.

Oh, and it's Saint Patrick's day!  Maybe today will be a lucky day.  Probably not though because I seem to have the worst luck ever.  Although today is the perfect day for some Little Green Man festivities.  How convenient that it is a Thursday.  I mean really.. IUP has turned Saint Patrick's day into another homecoming weekend and reason for people to sell obnoxious t-shirts in the oak grove and get ridiculously intoxicated.  All in good fun.  I plan on joining later.. not gonna lie.

Another good thing about today- busting out the flip flops.  60 degrees is sufficient I think.  I'm just all over the place today.  Weather must be good for the soul.  I should seriously consider moving South once I'm done with school.  Winter just isn't healthy if you ask me.  Really- no wonder people are depressed.  It's cold and gloomy all the time.  It just makes it that much worse when you're going through a rough spot.

Well, hopefully this weather sticks around.  Until then I'm going to continue enjoying my day.  I'm leaving work shortly and I do believe a nail appointment is calling my name.  Then it's out and about.  I'll drink one for you, love. Miss you <3

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

And if you wanna know how a girl survives,

just look by her side.

Found that quote while I was at work not studying for my test (I know, "Christina what did I tell you," don't worry, babe) and playing on picnik.  Pretty proud of my final product..


What is that?  I went out on Saturday and I can honestly say I had a good time.  I smiled.  I laughed.  I danced.  And to get a legit one of either of those, it's hard.  Sure, I have had fun other times.  But, days like that don't happen very often for me.  To just let go.. push the pain and everything else away for a little while.  Not to mention, Joshua, I think you would have been proud haha.

The thing that sucks, that most people don't understand, is one tiny tiny little thing that upsets me or causes an ounce of drama throws me into a whirlwind.  Not just for a little while.  For DAYS.  It's ridiculous and it sucks so bad.   Some drama went down over a two hour period last night.  Which ultimately just turns into me crying and hating my life.  Hating where I am and without you.  The times that I long to have you more than anything else in the world.  The times where you would have made it all better. I HATE IT.

Seriously.  It just sets you off and it's like taking a step back.  The little things break you down and I'm not sure why.  Maybe because I can't handle a lot.  I'm not really sure.  What makes me the most mad about it is I'm over stupid high school/childish problems.  My problems in life these days are a lot larger than a good ole game of he said, she said.  Annoying.

I try real hard to avoid people and things that will end up doing this, but sometimes it just happens.  It's not healthy and for the people doing it- get a life.  The world doesn't revolve around you.  I have more important things to do with my time instead of dealing with an emotional mess.  Sometimes (more like usually) I just can't handle it and it makes me miss you.  When you're already knocked down, added nonsense is no help.  In a way I feel like I'm still building up that strength and dealing with this every single day is so incredibly draining so maybe that's why the littlest thing pushes it over the edge.  I really don't know.

So, now I need to snap out of it.  Maybe some IUPatty's celebration tomorrow?  Who knows.  Gotta represent for you :)

Friday, March 11, 2011

How low can you go?

I don't know what the heck is going on with me, but I don't like it.  I feel like I just keep falling further and further down.  Asking myself when it is going to get better.  I think I'm just at a point where I feel so incredibly alone without you and who do you turn to?  I know a million people say they are there for me and I am thankful for that.  Really though, it's not the same.  I'm lacking that role in my life and adjusting to living without it is so hard.

As usual, the days are fine.  I went shopping today (which I really need to stop doing) and I went to dinner with a couple friends.  I smiled.  I laughed.

And then I came home.

I have said it a thousand times, but I hate being home at night.  It allows you to think.. too much.  You get to this point where you feel desperate.  Trying to fill that void and you just can't.  Not to mention anyone who truly cares I have pushed away and let in the idiots who ultimately ended up hurting me some more.  Just my luck, right?  Typical situation.

I just want to be okay again.  Whatever that even is.  Today has just been a lot of reminders.  Reminders that you're gone and I'm alone.  I hate those days.  They flat out suck.  For a little while things were going pretty smooth and now I feel like I took steps back. 

I've done absolutely nothing this week.  I'm on spring break so really that's what you do over break.  BUT I realized the ridiculous amount of homework I have to get done before Tuesday and I just don't want to.  Part of me wishes I would have taken more time off because I'm burned out.  This life is draining.  Then again, maybe not being in school this week is what let me fall back.  I don't know.

On a lighter note.. A 2/9 Dad is having a walk in honor of the Fallen 2/9 Marines on March 26, 2011 in Trussville, Alabama.  The proceeds are benefiting the Wounded Warrior Project.  You can find the information here: 10 Mile Rock
Go check it out.   It's a good cause.

Thursday, March 10, 2011


Six months is killing.  Things have been, well, hard.  I miss you.

I was cleaning up my room tonight now that the new windows are in and I put my shelf back together.  I stood there.  Just looking at it.   It's so depressing and all I can say is "really?!"  This is what I have left?

Of all the people in the world, this is the hand I was dealt.  Why me?  I've been trying to stay positive lately, but it gets hard to try and fake it.  It's only been six months.  Honestly it feels way longer than that.

If I sat here and said I wasn't getting better that would be a lie because each day is another baby step forward.  At the same time, these are super small steps and it still hurts.  It's still fresh.  Not to mention I'm super angry lately.  Angry that I'm hurting and just want my life back.  Angry that you got taken away from me before I was ready. 

Everyone is on leave now.  At home, with their families.  Here I am.  Just doing what I've been doing all along with myself.  It freakin sucks.  Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for everyone, but that doesn't make it any easier knowing I have nothing.

I'm really struggling with where to go next and finding myself.  It's like you get lost, but you're never finding who you were again because so much changes.  Not to mention how much I hate being alone.  I miss having someone to just lay on the couch and watch a movie with or to just take a nap.  Being alone is lame.  I don't want another boyfriend, but it's kinda nice when you have some company.

I miss my old life.  Who I was.  Us being together.  Things have to get better at some point.  But the further I get from September 2nd, the further I feel from you.  It's realizing more everyday that you aren't coming back.  I hate that.  I just want to talk to you.  I feel like if I could just talk to you one more time, but I know I would still want one more after that. 

This isn't fun, babe.  Not one bit.  I really don't like doing this without you. 

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Be Thankful

I know I have been slightly MIA from my blog home, but it seems to happen when I get into one of my funks.  I just can't come up with anything that seems like its worthy to write about.  I'll think about it and I come up with a whole lot of nothing.  Until today that is.

I learned something.  People in this country are pathetic.  Seriously all people do is whine and complain about every little single thing.  If one thing doesn't go their way they are bitching about it.  I don't know how many times I look at my news feed each day to see complaint after complaint after complaint.

I bet you can't guess which one bothers me the most?  People bitching about their husbands not coming home on time.  Here's an idea folks- BE HAPPY HE'S COMING HOME!  You know why? Because 5,494 haven't come home.  And it's never, "Sucks Tommy (random name) has no idea when he's getting back, I'm just so thankful to have him coming home."  Oh, no.  It's the "oh my god Marine Corps I effing hate you I just want my husband back right now."  Well, take it from someone who knows- getting them back late beats getting them back in a freakin box.

Remember how everyone used to talk about how they couldn't stand how their civilian friends bitching about their boyfriends being gone for a weekend?  Well.  That's kinda how I feel about deployments now.  I know some people are probably thinking "Oh my god, bitch!"  Right about now.  But think about it.  Look at it from my point of view and then think about what you have.  

Then there are the people who will go on and on and on about something, but they won't do anything about it.  Pick one.  Complain and fix it or don't say anything.  I know I complain too, but I try not too.  And in light of lent that's what I'm going to give up.  Complaining. 

I know things in my life aren't exactly peaches and cream right now.  However, there is someone somewhere in this world that is worse off than me.  I have a roof over my head, food on the table, clothes on my body, a family, friends, I'm going to college.  Those are things that a lot of people in this world have zero access to. 

Americans are so blind to the opportunities  we have in this country.  The freedom to do as we please.  The rights that we have.  That isn't the case everywhere and we wouldn't have those if men and women weren't dying for this country.  From day 1 of this grand ole land someone was paying the price for that freedom.  Please don't forget that or ever take it for granted.  Take it from someone who paid a big tab.  How many people do you know would give up their life for their country?  I bet you couldn't maybe fill up a hand. 

We're so incredibly fortunate for what we have here.  I'm so thankful that I was born and raised in this country.  Thankful for the opportunity to do whatever I want in my life.  To say what I want,  to be what I want, to travel to wherever I want.  For some reason a lot of people don't care.  It's merely become and expectation to do/have whatever we please.  It's sad.  And when things don't go our way?  We whine like babies.  Honestly what is this world coming to..?  Just because we live in America and we're free we act like everything should literally be handed to us just like that and the way we want it.  Nope, doesn't work that way.  Take what you get and make the best of it. 

You know.  I know more widows than I would like (not because I don't love them, but because we all got thrown into this crap without say).  And you know what?  They have a pretty shitty hand.  A lot of them with children, some that never met their fathers, and they are still living life.  Thankful for what is in front of them because you don't have a choice but to live and to deal with what you have.  They learned the hard way even if they were thankful before.

Here's my message to you all.. take a look at what you have.  Be thankful for it.  Those of you with deployed loved ones: they're alive and they love you. The ones at home: be glad they are there with you and enjoy every moment. 

Don't take anything in life for granted because I can assure you that it can be ripped away before you even have time to take another breath.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011


I spent another weekend in J-Vegas!  I got the chance to meet and spend more time with your friends.  I met so many amazing people along with the other families of the fallen.   It never fails though, a trip to Jacksonville results in a severe lack of sleep.  Sunday funday got me four hours of sleep when I had to be up at 7 for the service and drive home nine hours.  That was fun.

I met so many more people on Friday and Saturday.  It was easier to see people this time because there weren't as many families in town.  Every person that was introduced to me told me how great of a man you were and that you are a true hero.  As painful as it can be sometimes, my heart always swells with pride and I put a smile on my face.  Because you know what?  You're mine.  People will never forget you because of the man and Marine that you were.  I have yet to encounter someone that has something bad to say about you.   

I'm really glad I went though.  I like being there and around those people.  Not to mention it was 85 and I could wear flip flops!  And I went to the beach.  This time around I ventured to more places we went even though a majority of them were the last places we were.  It was harder this time.   When I left to come home three weeks ago, I knew I was going back.  This time I don't know when I'm going back and that makes me sad.

Me and Kourtney were talking in the car and she made a good point.  It's almost like it's time for me to walk away from the Marine Corps (alone, which is not how I saw that  playing out).  But at the same time, majority of the people we knew are getting out and going their own ways.  I realized that even though I was leaving and everyone else was staying, that it won't be long before they are leaving too.  Kourtney made a good point- it's like graduating high school all over again.  Except we have a deeper bond with these people.  A bond that won't ever allow us to fully walk away from each other.  We have been through one heck of a trial together with this deployment and it brought everyone together.  People on the outside will never understand this bond, but it will hold all of us together forever.  Still makes me sad though.

The memorial dinner wasn't anything exciting.   I got to talk to Amy for a while with little baby Jax and I met a few more Marines.  The memorial service the next day was beautiful.  I did pretty well until roll call, amazing grace, the 21 gun salute, and taps.  That order of events gets me every single time.  You cry those tears that you can't stop.  It's like a never ending waterfall flowing from your face.  When all that is happening you feel that pain all over again.  I'm so glad I went. Even though everyone is clearly hurting, you are there to get a hug and lean on each other for support.  It never ceases to amaze me how the Marine Corps family pulls together in times like that.  Again, no outsider would ever understand what happened in the Field house that morning. 

Here are the pictures.  I would just like to point out that I love my outfit (I think you would have appreciated it, too.  And just for the record I did have super cute shoes to match, but I thought it would be smarter to not put my feet through the torture.  Flip flops- 1 Pumps- 0)

15 Angels Guarding the gates of Heaven: HM3 Swink, Sgt Bovia, LCpl Twigg, Cpl Bishop, LCpl Jackson, Cpl Sockalosky, Sgt Zaehringer, Ssgt Cullins, LCpl Honeycutt, LCpl Huse, LCpl Geary, Sgt Misner, LCpl Htaik, Cpl Tate, and LCpl Giese

"Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well,
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."

Six Months

Well, today is my sixth "2" and I can't believe its been that long.  Six whole months.  It feels like it's been eternity, but I remember it like it was yesterday.  It feels like so long ago and that so much has happened.

I don't really feel any better.  It's like the further out you get the more you long to have it back.  I'm sure I've gotten stronger and better in some ways.  But I'm still hurting so much.  People think that because you are living that you are okay.  Mrs. P talked about it in her blog, too.  It's not okay.  You still hurt everyday and those dreaded words "should be" can almost eat you alive.

I think what we "should be" doing right now.  You would be home on leave and I would be running around between school and work and spending time with you.  Probably arguing with you about something you were doing because I wanted you to myself and you know I liked to pick fights over stupid stuff.  Really though we fought like an old married couple.  It was dumb and we got over it.  It always reminds me of the Notebook:

Well that's what we do, we fight... You tell me when I am being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you are a pain in the ass. Which you are, 99% of the time. I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you're back doing the next pain-in-the-ass thing. 

They didn't agree on much. In fact they rarely agreed on anything. They fought all the time and they challenged each other everyday...
...But in spite their differences, they had one important thing in common, they were crazy about each other.

Its just what we did.  I miss that.  Yesterday I was thinking all day how I should have been bugging you as you drove home asking you a million times where you were and telling you to hurry up so I could see you.  Instead, it was just another day.  I went to class and work.  I came home and went to bed.  Alone. 

Another thing is people are starting to say "get over it."  I know six months may be a long time for some things, but not for this.  I'm in no way over it nor am I ready to be.  I'm not ready to let go yet.  People think that taking steps forward is forgetting or that I'm ready to just try and put someone else in that spot and have a new boyfriend.  I don't want one!  Anyone close to me know that is the last thing I want right now: a new boyfriend.  That isn't even an option.  I'm not ready for that and I don't want it either.

That brings me to my next point:  it gets confused rather often, wanting someone to be there and expecting someone to fill his spot.  That's not how it is.  But you know what?  I'm done having these expectations of people of thinking how things should go because all it does in the end is hurt me.  Maybe it's better if I figure it out on my own.  I'm not really sure.  However, it seems to be a never ending trend of people promising to be there and they are the first ones to hurt you or turn their back.  I should have known better.  It has happened to every widow I know, but I was holding out hope that the people I knew wouldn't do that to me.  Epic fail.

At this point.. I feel like the less I hope for in people, the less I will get hurt.  Sad isn't it?  I just can't take much more.  I feel like my already broken heart just keeps getting smashed into smaller pieces because I trust people too much and I expect too much.  I'm not ready to move on.  I don't want to get over it.  I'm still grieving and this hurts me every single day.  Especially days like today when I can't escape that "should be" or the fact that it's another month that you haven't been here.  I may put on a smile, but don't be fooled people.  I'm just another girl with a heart broken into a million pieces.