It's the dreaded 15th

Today is the 8 month mark. He's been gone 8 months. It's weird that counting the time since he passed is a lot like the countdowns we had on so many deployments. Only there is no end reward. There is no emotional reunion. I won't pick out a dress I think he will like or make a banner. He's just gone.

It's also strange to me that the rest of the world has moved on and he is forgotten. How is it even possible? I move on a little everyday. Some days I don't budge and some I take a few steps back but he's never out of my mind. It's impossible. 

I have lost many people in my life. My best friend at 16, my favorite aunt, my precious grandma. People who had such a major influence on me but none left me as abandoned and broken as losing my husband. His death literally changed my brain function. I can't forget because every time a car backfires or a balloon pops I am instantly right back to that night. Even if I pretended he didn't exist the PTSD reminds me. The doctors say it never goes away. I'm trying not to be resentful or sorry for myself but he left me with absolutely nothing, forever broken and with his kids to care for alone. 

Well, until Sean appeared in my life. I am forever grateful to him. He is a selfless man who just wants to love us. He doesn't get jealous when I speak of Mike often. He holds me when I cry, he calms me when I get anxious and panicked. He knows that I will never be normal again and loves me anyway. Oh, and he loves my kids so well. He treats them as his own. He is so good to and for us. I wish I were whole and could give him the love and attention he deserves. 

The way we met is most unfortunate but I am so thankful he picked us. I feel safe with him. I feel as if God sent him to me. He is a gift in the wake of such enormous destruction. I am not ashamed to say I am completely in love with him. I will get through this and I know he will be next to me the whole way. 

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