|Source: My computer. I can't remember where I got this from.|
I feel like my dead husband has become my imaginary friend.
I still tell him about my day. I still rant, cry and laugh about my day with him. I tell him my secrets, whisper to him in the dark. I will remember something funny he did, and laugh out loud, usually in the most awkward situations. And say “Remember that time you were showing my brother how cool your new lantern was, and you lit yourself on fire?? That was hilarious!”
I will be going on with my day. Working in the garden or at the grocery story. In my head, I will be rambling on to my husband. I go on and on, and suddenly I realize what I am saying in my head, isn't really in my head. It’s coming out of my mouth.
When I realize I’m actually saying my one sided conversation out loud, I stop mid sentence, and slowly and shamefully look around.. Of course, there is always someone standing there, giving me the I.think.you.are.nuts look.
I want to scream at them. “I don’t have an imaginary friend. I am talking to my dead husband. Mind your own business.”
Because… well, talking to my dead husband is far less insane then talking to an imaginary friend.
I have lost my friend. My confident. The therapist I found inside my husband’s advice. He’s gone. I miss talking about my day. Bouncing ideas off him. Asking him “Does this dress make me look fat?” I can’t watch is face glow and hear his amazing laugh when I tell one of my not so funny jokes. I can’t wake him up in middle of the night after a bad nightmare, ramble on about the dream, and curl up in his arms. The arms that kept the world at bay. The arms that protected me from the midnight thunder storms that would shake me from my slumber.
I can’t call him crying when I have a flat tire or when I have a pipe break and it’s flooding my neighbor’s basement.
I miss my best friend, more than words could ever describe. I miss knowing no matter what, he has my back, and he will make everything okay again.
The loss of this friendship is shattering.
I have grown tired of this one sided, imaginary, friendship.
He never has a response. Never answers my questions. Doesn't wipe my tears or tell me it will be okay. Some days I think I truly am insane, and he actually can’t hear a word I say to him.
There is just the sound of my voice blabbing on, then complete silence. No response from my not dead, very much alive, husband.
The silence is deafening.