a letter.

14 months later, i want you to know i still miss you each and every day.
i am doing my absolute best with the boys.
some days i feel like a complete and total failure as a parent.
some days i don't.
E is constantly pushing me.
just when i don't think i can take any more, he either senses it...or i'm not even sure but he somehow magically snaps back into the adorable and caring little boy i know he can be.
today, for the FIRST time, he told me he was sorry for something he had done.
i almost felt like he understands that you HAVE to take responsibility for your actions.
not so sure though. because this has been a hard lesson for E. i've taught it over and over and over again. sometimes i have felt like i've been slamming my head against a wall, that he will never, ever get it. then...today...wham. maybe it's a first step. god i hope so. because he HAS to understand.
alexander, too, is trying to find his way.
form some independence.
which is sad for me.
it sort of shocks me, actually. i guess i should have expected it. i guess i wasn't prepared.
the boys miss you so much.
they talk about you, alexander more than ethan, though as more time passes E talks about you a bit more. when you first died, he totally and completely shut down. i see him, beginning to talk about certain memories he has of you, of us....it's a good thing. but i see it also makes him sad.
all of the decisions i have made, i have made with the boys' best interest in mind. their best interest and MY sanity.
i want you to know i love living in astoria.
i asked the boys the other night, each individually, if they like it here.
alexander does. he seems content.
ethan says he likes it, however, his answer was slightly reserved.
i think he misses you, and equates you to reno, and our old house and is still mad at me for taking him away from 'you', if that makes any sense.
a week or so ago the boys and i were sitting at the table.
alexander said to me, 'i want things back the way they were. i want daddy back. i want our house back. i want everything back the way it was.' it of course, made me really sad. becasue i feel guilty for uprooting them. i needed to do it. i couldn't live there anymore. but i know my decision was hard on them. for them. and they aren't over it.
i know that i am lucky.
lucky that i can have a house built for us.
i also feel the stress.
the stress of being a single parent.
of making every single decision for all of us.
once the virus attacked your heart, our lives changed. not to say i wouldn't do it all over again with you, because i would. i wouldn't trade our time together for anything in the world.
some days i think of you and am happy.
other days, i am sad beyond words. because i miss you and i'm not sure i can do this.
wait. that's not right. i know i can do this. i'm just not sure if i can do it well.
i worry, a lot, about fucking up the boys.
i miss having you here.
to talk to. with.
to tell me it's all going to be okay.
you filled in all those little gaps and spaces that needed filling.
i don't know how else to say it except you and i just went together.
we belonged together.
and my insomnia.....it's back.
when you died it came back with a mother fucking vengence.
it went away for a while.
but it's back.
i should find a new therapist dude.
i just haven't.
there are many things i should do.
and haven't.
on christmas day when i had to talk to that person, my body shook.
the entire time.
i did my part and let the boys talk to them.
i know i need to let my anger about this particular subject go.
but i'm not entirely there yet.
i want you to know that you had some good friends.
vish, for one.
a year later, he sent the boys something for christmas.
he did not forget that there are two little boys out there, missing their father.
and THAT is way way way beyond amazing.
and someone has been a secret santa to the boys. got something in the mail for them yesterday. no return address. but i have my suspicians about who it is.
some days feel normal.
others, well...they just don't.
i really truly do miss you more than i can say.
i haven't painted.
i want to.
i need to.
i may have to just fucking force it again.
i have to find a way to get over not wanting to paint when the boys are around.
because the boys are ALWAYS around.
unless they're in school (and that's a short period of time for zan).
i have to get over the mental block and just fucking blow through this shit.
i think now that more time has passed since you died, i am starting to process more.
it's come and gone for me.
i think that's the only way i've been able to function. when it gets to be too much my mind just shuts it down.
and lately, it's been letting more get through. not sure if that's a good or a bad thing.
i feel like crap, because i miss you, and i know many people expect me to be 'over' it and fine and perfectly happy at this point. but that's not how it works. for me anyway.
i think i am only allowed to process a bit at a time because if it were otherwise i really truly would just shut the fuck down. completely.
so maybe, when it all works its way to the top, just enough gets out. and then it starts all over again. i really do try hard, though, to make it all go away. because i want to feel normal again.
i love you.
and i miss you.
i am doing my best with our boys.