I'm crying right now. I'm not sure why, just missing Ry. It shouldn't hurt so bad right now. it's been over a year, almost 2, and March is supposed to be my break month. I can't say a thing where I usually blog....they're caught up in sunshine, and sick of me.

I woke up far too early, ruining my plan of sleeping through as much of the day as possible, trying to let it just go by. But it refused, as things tend to do when you need them to go by the most. I closed my eyes and thought over the joys of marriage, trying to remind myself that all of life is a devil's bargain, and I signed my contract with ( Read more... )

I can't help but remember the day we buried you. It was the first time I'd ever seen someone buried in the little Jewish cemetary tucked away from most of the world. It was the first time I'd ever heard myself referred to as a widow. It was the first time I'd ever seen your dad cry. The impact of your death hadn't hit me yet, and everyone was so ( Read more... )

Stolen from
( Read more... )

I swear, there are times when I can feel the darkness closing in on me, and I'm always afraid that one of these times, I won't come back. I struggle to take a breath, but my chest feels empty, like there's no way to fill it, just an immense black hole that sucks in the rest of me. In the shower today, I crossed my hands over my heart and tried to ( Read more... )

Stolen from
( Read more... )

Love isn't everything. I know that in my mind. Love can't keep bread or soup on the table, or clothing on one's body. The lovers and loved of the world still starve in thier tattered clothes while they whisper quiet declarations of love in the dark. No, love never put a penny in thier pocket.

Love never kept a roof over my head, or sheltered me ( Read more... )

People often say love is blind. I challenge this idea. Love isn't blind, because that would make love a handicap. No, love isn't blind- love is the paintbrush that makes all things beautiful by virtue of being loved. It takes the rich colors, and covers all the grey, the cracks, until all you see is a bright and beautiful fresco where there once ( Read more... )

Some time ago, my friend Emily wrote a letter to my mother about how evil and hateful she was to me, but especially to my husband. I decided to post it here becuase I'm proud of her, and becuase everyone should know what a horrible little person my mother is and was.

.

I warn you, those of you that think I'm extreme, I would suggest you leave now. ( Read more... )

Dear Ry ( Read more... )