Homeless?

I have a place where I live, a home I built with Richie, but more and more I can't figure out where my "home" is. You see, home is where the heart is and if you're heart doesn't belong to anyone but you, then you don't belong anywhere either right?

Yesterday when I left our Easter lunch I drove around for two hours and covered most of West Cobb. I went down the East West Connector, came back up around Dallas Highway and found myself sitting in the parking lot of Kennesaw mountain. If the gate had not been locked I would have driven to the top in my search. I wanted to go HOME, but I had no idea where that was. I had an overwhelming desire to ride to Albany to just sit by Richie's grave because that seemed as close to "home" as I was going to get. I felt lost, homeless, not sure of where to go?

I don't really know where I belong these days, so I find that I feel more like a third wheel in whatever groups I am in at the time. I know, I have friends, I have family and I love them so much, but that doesn't change the fact that I am sidebar to their lives at times. They have their own problems, issues, children, and things to deal with. I am not their main concern and I shouldn't be.

See, I used to be Richie's somebody. He used to be the center of my world. I guess a couple makes for a small family unit, but we were one anyway. So without a place to hang my heart, there is no place that holds meaning for me. At the end of the day, when you go home, you probably think of yourself going to a place, not to a person. But if that person were gone, would it still feel like home? And if home were just a place, just another house with colored walls and cable TV and a couch, then you could never move, you could never rebuild.

I keep saying that I'll make a new life, a happy one, once the world stops spinning and the grief gets more bearable. But the world never really stops spinning does it? The world didn't stop turning just because Richie died...it kept on even though I stopped.

Everyone else still has their jobs and families to attend to, they head home at the end of the day. They talk to their significant others throughout the day...if just to tell them something funny that happened or to remind them to pick up milk on the way home from work. For me, I don't have this direction anymore...where is my home? Did it disappear with Richie?

For months now, whenever I start to cry, I'll find myself crying how I want to be home, but when I am there I still want to be "home." For me, I finally see that this is just another way of saying I want my husband, that I want to be with him, and asking God to make that happen in a more timely fashion.

I have no home now, and I am unsure how to go about making a new one. How do you create a "home" alone as a widow? There must be a way, right? There are millions of single people in the world, and I'm sure they all think their home is a "home." But why for me is it so hard?

What is it that I have to do to create a "home" again for myself?