Bombing Backlash

One week ago today, our lives were blasted into the reality that this is a very evil, sick world.  We all watched, helpless, as Boston scrambled to tend to its wounded -- and dead -- and figure out what the hell was going on.  While I watched the coverage from a "safe" 240-or-so miles away, I felt just as scared and vulnerable as those within the Boston city limits.

Now, a week later, countless emotions are rushing to the surface.  I feel almost worse now than I did a week ago.  There was something that was triggered in my brain when I saw all the chaos and devastation ensuing in my adopted city.  The bombing site was only a couple miles from Massachusetts General Hospital, the place Mike was treated for the better part of eight and a half years.  I watched the news coverage in our beloved city, as well as the live broadcasts from Mass General.  I sat and watched, transfixed as the anchors shot live from the hospital that was, as Mike called, our "timeshare."

This past week has felt like a huge setback.  I am back to my state of disbelief with this entire ordeal.  He can't really be gone.  I can't really be expected to live the rest of my life without him.  I am so done with all this.  I see happy couples in love and just sneer at them.  I see people with babies and feel sick.  I see everything I ever had or wanted locked in a safe for which I lack the combination.  The safe-keeper merely laughs at me.

I feel that life isn't going to get any better until I have Mike.  And yet, I can't have him.  Figure that out.

I have learned that you don't have to die to go to hell.  I am living proof.  Right now, I have the same amount of energy to both bust up a room and also throw myself on the floor, listless, and sob.  I have yet to decide which kind of night this is.....