I head to Dallas tomorrow for a 1 night trip. Then I land and I am here for the month. For the first time since right after Richie died I do not want to go. I want to stay here, I want to be able to go up to the office and sit and think like I have done each night this week. Even if for a few minutes, I go up there to just sit, think and feel like I am near Richie.
But I have to go and there is nothing I can do about it. I know that as the plane is landing on Friday night I am going to be hit with the same saddness I always get when I come home. But this time I know its probably going to be a bit harder because I know what I am coming home to.
Every day I wake up with the same thought...Why Me? Why do I have to be the widow? I hate being in this situation. I hate it.
Footprints
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