Does it count that I miss him? Of course. But I'm moving forward. I'm not moving on. I could never move on. But he's there. I'm here.
There are two ways to define strength in this matter, giving in or finding the answers. I have done neither. I didn't lose myself and get sucked into his world forever. I left him there. My brain, my sanity, a part will always be lost, but I can still function. And for that, they call me strong. I call it cowardice. Lying and running from the problem. I need to face it. I need to step up in hundreds of people and tell them the truth.
I can't even type it. I can even make my mind think the words. He passed. It's a sugarcoated way to this life of pain and sorrow. He's not . . . dead, he passed. He went to sleep and never woke up. Admitting the death, saying he did it, I am not strong.
It'll be three years soon. Two days. In two days everything will be back where I started. Have I even gotten that far? I've seen one health professional. One. Unless you want to count the man who diagnosed me with post partum depression. I don't count him.
I have never spoken in front of a group. I told my mother, but only to allow her to ease her own mind of the truth that happened. I told my sister. But that was also just to let her know what he went through. And I've written it, here, for everyone to read.
But the words have never left my lips for myself. I have never sat there and told people what was happening solely because I needed to get it out. I do need to get it out. I need to scream it. I need the strength.
I keep trying to find it in someone else, but it will only be inside of me. I am the only person who can overcome this. And somehow I can't do it alone. Nathan doesn't deserve to go through this. I need the help. I need that family to take their place and finally, just once, help me. Let me fall into that place never worrying Nathan will see it. Let me be who I need to be for a day. One day.
If I ever had any faith, I'd like to count on his father. But I know better. That bridge has been blocked off a long time ago. This battle will never be won with a man at my side. Just family. Only my family.
Then I accept the strength they all say I have. Then I can feel the bricks being lifted off my chest. I can sleep soundly. I can say the words I so desperately need to say. I will never hide my tears again. I will never be ashamed that I'm living my life with him not here. I need this.