I drove from Allentown to Northampton to pick something up at the vet before they closed for the evening, wiping my tears in the parking lot and going on with life. Then I backtracked from Northampton to Allentown, intending to pick up wrapping paper at Target for a gift. I think I really just needed more time in my car before going home, because before long, I found myself crying again.
I should mention that this hasn't happened for quite a long while.
I got an important phone call en route, pulled over in a parking lot to take the call and concentrate, and then as I tried to imagine what I might like to have for dinner, I noticed my mom called while I was on the other line. I called her back and she and my dad invited me to meet them for a quick dinner.
I found my way home for the day around 7:45pm, poured myself a glass of wine and looked through my mail.
Tax documents reminding me that I spent part of 2014 married and part of 2014 widowed got tossed to the side when I saw a familiar envelope in the pile. It was an annual letter from the Sparhawk Resort in Ogunquit, Maine, the last place I went on vacation with Rick. In the envelope was a brochure to book a new vacation in the shore town. It was of course addressed to Rick & Arielle Bair.
Rick & Arielle Bair don't exist anymore. Haven't for over 8 months. Only Arielle is left, trying her best to figure out this crazy thing called life.
I think today is the first day in a really, really long time that I've been angry. I didn't want to be alone. I didn't want to pay for a funeral and leftover medical bills. I didn't want to have to sell my house. I didn't want to sleep by myself at night. I didn't want this.
I wanted love notes on my kitchen table...and kisses good morning...and kisses good night...and laughter...and photos...and relaxing vacations. I wanted all that stuff I used to have to continue.
I just feel stuck.
Somewhere inside of me, I hope so much that all of that stuff isn't just going to fade like some long lost dream of an existence I thought I deserved... that maybe instead I'll have it all again one day.
For now, I know I have to make my own happiness. I know that happiness is an inside job. My self-awareness is both a saving grace and a painful exploration. I can already tell that I'll be awake a long time tonight. I wish I had someone to talk to.