HET C/\OB

Every day for the last four weeks I feel that there are no more words left, no more tears left, but each day to (no longer) my surprise they (both) keep streaming. It's a gorgeous summer day. I'm sitting across the Hudson River with a spectacular view of the city, waiting for hubs to finish work so that we can go to Poconos - to get away, to breathe some fresh air, to relax, to clear the head. It's the same place we were four weeks ago. It took a lot of convincing for me to go, but I can't keep hiding forever. Everything is painful-the house, the dishes, food, friends, family, vacations.

I walked into the store today, not really willingly, just had a few hours to kill and there's really not much else to do in Jersey. The first thing I found (without even looking) was a sweater for my mom (those of you that know my mom can understand the significance) and I just burst into tears. I wanted to buy it. How many times did I look for a birthday present? A new years present? A mother's day gift? Ajust because? Without ever finding it. Why is it screaming at me now, "pick me up, buy me!?".

I don't know how I can look forward to anything anymore. J said something smart (again) yesterday, "U think u have to get over it, u never will, u just have to learn to live with it." How can I? Who will give me advice? Who will yell at me and hug me right after? Who's going to buy me a birthday present a month and a half in advance (or rather give me $ for another successful visit to Century)? Who will write me poems and give me newspaper clippings with useless
information? Who will talk to me for hours any time I want to?

I can keep blabbing, but for now I gotta keep driving. Ta Ta, for now.

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