Today marks the 21 month mark since Pablo's death. I just don't even know what to think anymore. Why does this have to be so damn hard? Why did this have to fucking happen? When do I get to have a semblance of a life again?

I think sometimes that things would be so much easier if only I could know what was going to happen in the future. I could more easily bide my time if I knew exactly when things would start happening.

Sigh. I hate the uncertainty almost as much as I hate the pain.

Why did this happen to me?!

I think that is one of the most selfish questions we young widows/ers can ask ourselves. Think about it for a minute - we're still alive. It's our spouses who were unlucky enough to have their lives ended by an illness, an accident, something. Or are they unlucky?

Shoot, I consider him the lucky one. I'm the one left to clean up all my emotions, deal with this for the rest of my life, and I get to be the one to tell my daughter: "Guess what, kid? You ain't got a dad!" (okay, I'm obviously not going to use those words, but you get my gist.)

Therefore, even though death didn't directly get me, it still got me. I'm the one who suffered here. (Well, I can say that, because I know he died instantly.) I don't think this question will ever be solved. Every time I see a man play with his child or hear him mention his wife, I think "that should be me!" It's easy to fall into the pit of questions, especially, "What did I ever do to deserve this?" I find myself poring over the last 27 years to think of what I possibly could've done to deserve such a punishment. And even though I know God doesn't work like that (after all, it's hardly fair to kill him off to punish me - wouldn't that punish Pablo most of all), it's not hard to think of the Mafia and how they don't go after you when they want to punish you, but after your nearest and dearest.

Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this??

Where does the time go?

That's a question everyone usually asks themselves. However, it may be one that widows/ers ask themselves far too frequently.

For example, Pablo and I were together for 8 1/2 years (yes, that 1/2 is very important to me!). 8.5 years can seem like a long time, but poof! it's gone, and now it seems like an absurdly short time. It's been 20 months since he died. Some days the time seems like it's d r a g g i n g. However, most days, it feels as if the time is just hurtling by, to some unknown date in the future.

20 months. With no idea of what awaits in the future. Might as well be in jail. At least there, you're counting down to something. Some days, I feel as if I'm just biding time. Biding time till what you ask? You tell me...