I Want to Hold Your Hand

Our hands.

Mine, holding his.




Lately my real time life keeps getting intersected with my blog writing. I don't know what it is, or why it is happening, but it seems that suddenly people are talking to me about my writing. Friends, family, and new acquaintances, are mentioning that they are reading my blog, then reach out, in words, to support me.

Comforting. Yes. Yet, I am also aware of this making me feel quite vulnerable. For the first time since beginning my writing, I am feeling quite exposed. People have asked me at times during the past year, if I felt too exposed. Many stated that they could never do what I do, as to much of what I write feels too private. This kind of conversation makes me come back to the reason why I am here.

Why am I here?

In about 10 days it will be my wedding anniversary, and it will also mark the one year anniversary of the beginning of this blog. It is making me stop to ask myself, why am I writing? I know why I began writing, but why do I write today? I have never gone back to read any of my past posts. It is something that I don't really want to revisit. I have a cognitive memory of the pain and devastation that I felt, and my heart it not ready to remember those days. Yet one thing is clear to me, I don't remember wondering what people thought. I don't remember feeling over exposed, and I don't remember giving it a second thought.

I'm now realizing that I was so very numb at the time. I was in shock, as my whole being had been traumatized. These days that layer of numbness is disappearing, and I am feeling things at a whole new level. I am feeling extremely vulnerable, and I find myself in deep tears at the most inopportune times.

I will say that it has been lovely to hear people speak to me of my writing. On each occasion there has been the immediate offer of sympathy, which has always been hard for me to accept. I have heard myself say it many times to others, Gosh, I am so sorry for your loss. I don't know if others are saying it differently recently, but I do know that I am accepting it differently.

You know, I hesitate to speak so openly lately. There are so many ways in which I have moved forward with my life. There are so many day to day challenges that require me to be strong, and to keep myself, and my family, moving forward. Yet, and I do realize I am saying yet an awful lot, I am hurting on a whole new level. The pain does not last as long, but cuts deeper than before. Today at the gym, I was meeting with a trainer. She asked what happened to change my work out habits during the past couple of years. I looked up at her and said, my husband got sick, and died. I must have looked pathetic, but she responded so sweetly. Right there in that moment, I wanted to just fall apart.

What harsh words.

What a harsh reality.

Tonight I was watching a taped episode of Glee. The storyline dealt with issues of faith and religious tolerance. The subtext for the episode was that Kurt's father had suffered a heart attack, and was in critical condition. He didn't know whether or not he would lose his father forever. He sang this song, "I Want to Hold Your Hand." It hit me like a ton of bricks. I so need to touch Michael's hand. I so need to feel him here with me. And, I so know that it will never be.

I don't want to be a person that dwells on the past. I don't want to bore people with always whining about losing my husband. I don't want to waste my time, and possibilities, by yearning for something that just can't be. But right now, I don't really know what else to do. This is where I am at.

Part of me really wants to meet someone new. Part of me really wants to lay in bed holding onto someone, or having him hold on to me. Yet, here it is again, I worry about the flood of held back tears that might fall when that first happens. I worry that I will completely overwhelm him with my response.

I have had people reach out to hold my hand. I have had plenty of hugs along the way. I know that when it happens, that someone reaches out for me in a romantic way, that I will feel, and receive, this touch in a very different way. I don't think I will be that strong person anymore. I think I will crumble to the floor.

I know that this will be the case, yet it is still something that I will seek.

I want to hold his hand.