One of these days, I imagine I'll realize that this isn't a dream. I'm not going to wake up and have Vincent back. He's not at the hospital waiting to be released.
Even more, I'll get that support I desperately need but keep denying.
Goodness denial is such a strong emotion. It's carried me on this long and I can see it carrying it me on for the rest of my life. Because I can tell myself that yes, one day, I'll see him again. Because that's not lying. Dear sweet heaven. When it's finally my time, my son will be in my arms again.
I always feel so guilty though. I keep living for tomorrow, for that day when I see his big beautiful eyes looking at me. When I have this amazing four year old right here literally in front of me. I live for Nathan, of course. It's a constant battle within myself.
How do I find the balance of loving Vincent enough without leaving Nathan out, to loving Nathan enough without leaving Vincent out? Where is the safe line? Can I miss him terribly three days out of the year and then focus on Nathan?
I am always wanting that time back in Germany. Every second I'm alive, I wish I never left. To still be in that house. To still have his crib up. Oh, I know that would've eventually been the death of me. To not be able and drive up the road to see him. My brain would've deteriorated much faster than it is now.
This week is pure torture. I want to get to that point where I can be happy. Where I can just think of him and smile and cry only because I love him. I don't want to cry because it hurts anymore. Is that wrong? He deserves to be mourned, yes, his life was short but it was amazing. He deserves to be remembered with a smile too.