I still find myself asking "why" all the time. I can't get passed it. No matter how hard I try to rationalize your death or this situation or figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do next--I can't get passed this question. I need to know why it was you who had to die. I need to know why the doctors couldn't cure you. I need to know why after everything else that God put me through in my life he felt the need to rob me of my soul mate and true love. Why couldn't you and I have been like everyone else and had a normal life together? Why couldn't we have had our daughters together and raised them together and grown old together? Why did you die the way you did--so traumatically and suddenly? Why did you have to die from one of the most curable forms of cancer? Why didn't we catch it sooner? Why didn't I spend absolutely every waking moment I had with you instead of wasting time at work or on photo shoots or shopping? Why am I already starting to forget things? Why does it get harder everyday to be without you instead of easier? Why is this really real?
Asking why is exhausting, to say the least. And there are so many other "why" questions that I can't seem to find the answers to. Sometimes I envy you. You're in a place now where there is no more "why" and all of your questions have been answered. But truthfully, if I had the answers to these questions and had clarity about all of it, would I really be okay? No, I don't think so. But maybe it would be a start?
I love you so much and I miss you so much and I try not to drive myself crazy with these questions. But, the longer they go unanswered, the more I find that the less answers I actually have, the more questions I find to ask, and the more it all eats away at me. Day by day by day. I want you to come back to me. I'm still not ready to give you up. I didn't sign up for this. I agreed to live a life with you, not to live a life without you.
I miss you, I love you, I miss you, I love you, I miss you. I love you.