Relationships and Pills

It’s late Saturday afternoon. I sat back and watched the sunset as my kids happily played.  I don’t think I’d ever love again. I lost it. For the first time in a long time, I am sure of something that I thought of for a very long time. It’s going to be a very very lonely walk down Lonesome alley. I tried, believe me, I did. Online or offline. I was told to swim among the fishes’ in the ocean. I awkwardly met men of all sorts. Ones who were special and did not even bother with my weight gain. They were amazing. Yet here goes the “but”… But I don’t think I’d ever be ready for any of it. When things seemingly get serious, I turn my back and ran away. I kept doing it. I feel sorry and sad. Lonely, too. So lonely. I feel so jaded. Relationships work like pills. You only feel good for a moment. Side effects last terribly longer. And I am too scared and scarred for that. So much for an ever after, eh?

The 25th Story

I have been dragging myself to take this big leap, not because I hate writing, (oh goodness I can do it for a lifetime and a day!),  but because I was too scared to dig deep into my pile of memories. But here I am, paddling my way back into shore using only words. 

I’ve been widowed at the age of 30. I’ve been married for seven beautiful years. Now do the math. No, I didn’t marry at 25. I married at 23 on the 25th of March. He died on the 25th of October. When life tosses it’s dice and you unluckily lose, there are no second chances. The whole world as you know it changes. And so my journey began.

My bestfriend died. There is no rebound box for sorrow and grief. What now I can’t say out loud, I want to write it. I want my kids to know how everything all felt. I know it is never going to be easy. My whole world had changed. I was truly the happier than the happiest woman on earth on the 25th. And that fateful 25th crushed all I’ve dreamed of. That dreadful 25th.