254 days…

This shit doesn’t get any better.

You are still dead and this life seems to be stretched into an endless sea of going through the motions.

Get up, shower, wake kids, eat breakfast, make lunches, go to school, teach, come home, feed kids, bathe kids, search for evidence of you on the computer, go to bed way too late, wake up far too early, rinse, repeat.

Is this my life now?

People ask me how I am.  What do I tell them?

“Yeah – getting there”  is all I say.  What should I say?

Do they expect me to be over you by now?

Maybe they really believe all that bullshit about you being in a “better place”.

Maybe their faith hasn’t crumbled to dust before their eyes.  (Oh, don’t worry, I still believe in God, but I don’t believe the bullshit about him having any sort of “plan” for me …. unless its to totally destroy me).


There are days when I fervently wish it was me that was dead and you were here with the kids.
I know financially you would have been a lot better off because my superannuation death benefit shits all over your superannuation death benefit  (which I still haven’t seen a cent of btw – any chance you could hurry the bastards along at all?? Oh, and  please tell God to leave me and my friends alone and go and start smiting complete arseholes instead. Ta.)

Miss you.  A lot.

Love you.  A lot.