New Year

Life suddenly got very, very busy this week. It wasn't until I had time this afternoon to sit and ponder my existance did it occur to me that it's New Years Eve, and I have no plans. The missionaries were supposed to come over this evening to continue a discussion we started two weeks ago, but they ended up having to cancel. It's not a big deal, but it leaves me alone tonight. I wouldn't have guessed that would bother me so much. Today, right now, the longing for Ammon is stronger than it's been in a while.

I thought I would be happy to see 2008 end. I thought I would bid good riddance to a year that has held more heartache than all the other years of my life combined. I am finding rapidly that this is not the case. As always, moving farther and farther away from my life as a wife is painful in a way I can't describe. I heard trying to describe widowhood and grief recently compared to trying to describe a color to somebody who is blind. I can explain it. I can describe it. I can tell you how it makes me feel, and how it affects my life--but unless you can experience the color for yourself, you can't understand.

I should make plans and get out of the house. I should pick up the phone and call a friend. The thing is, I don't want to. I don't want to force conversation with somebody. I don't want to have to explain why I'm having such a hard time with the impending date change, and why the grief is bearing down on me today more today than it was yesterday. I want, more than anything, to curl up on the couch with Ammon, lay my head on his chest--and have a good cry. I want to feel his arms wrapped around me. I want to feel him touch my face, my hair, my skin. I don't want to be alone this year. I don't want to be alone tonight, but I don't want to be around anybody either. I want to be around him. I want him in my arms, on my sofa, in my bed.

I want it all back. Can we go a year backward instead of a year forward tonight? I just want it all back.