The long way around

This will sound like one of the hundred entries I have made here, but I miss my little family and the woman who was my best friend for years. I’m dense, but not stupid, I know things have changed, she has changed, and people have changed while I’ve been stuck in January 2019. I’ve been holding on to a frayed rope hoping it will hold me, but knowing it will break at anytime. Where will I fall to is unknown, but bad or good, I don’t want to fall. There just out of reach is the comfortable, caring, and safe life I knew for years. Family and friends are staring down at me hanging, but not doing anything to rescue me. I’m hoarse from calling for help and my arms are tired, but I continue to fight to hold on.

I’m afraid to let go. I’m afraid of the lonliness down there in the dark. I don’t want to die alone. I don’t want to change…

After my first divorce and all the fallout in the early 90’s I did all the work. I made the sacrifices and trials. I fought and clawed for the life I wanted and in a blink it was taken away from me and essentially given to another. Not just my wife and her love and friendship, but my children’s every day lives and actions. My home and my possesions. Yes, in the “grand scheme” I’m not defined by those things.

I’m tired of grieving, but I cannot seem to stop. I tired of feeling abadoned, but I was. I live in the grasp of all my failures, learning from them, but never escaping them.