As I attempt to fall asleep, which I know will take me about 3 hours, I miss my husband. I miss his leg touching mine. It is a funny thing about married people, we can say alot with just a touch. I knew when he was mad....he leg wouldn't touch mine. Matter of fact, he wouldn't even hog up the bed.Only once have I felt his leg on mine since his death. But his touch...how I miss it. I miss him, I miss my best friend.
Sometimes, I am scared to go to sleep. I fear that I will dream of him. In the begining, I would dream he was alive, that his death was a mistake. In my dream, I would tell him, no sweetie, you are gone, I saw your body, we had a funeral, they gave me the money. He would argue, that it was a mistake, but that he wouldn't tell anyone, just we would know. When I woke up....oh my heart hurt so much, it was like going through that day all over again. Finally, I couldn't take the pain anymore. In my dream, I told him, he was dead and he needed to let me go and he did. For many months I wouldn't dream of him, I couldn't, I was scared. Then last night, he came to me in my dream. He wasn't alive, he was dead....but he talked to me and I talked to him. I told him about his funeral, the homecomings, the boys, ours and his squad, and of course his mother. The dream felt good. I got stuff off my chest and I had my best friend, at least in my dream.
So, to whoever reads this, enjoy a touch, a smell, a friendship, a love. I wish I had mine, but I do have memories....and they are so wonderful, I hope they fill my lifetime.