Please come back to me. My tears don't stop. They're always there under the surface. Constant aching in my heart. Thoughts of you in pain; thoughts of you wanting to live; your fear of going to sleep and not waking up came true. Your life ended. Somehow part of my life did too. Sometimes I feel like a zombie; I'm going through the motions but my heart isn't in it. I wish for your sake I could appreciate this life I have but I miss you so much. Please come back to me. Please. You told me you'd always be here in the morning. I know you didn't control living or dying. If you could, you would have lived. If I could control living and dying I would have died for you.
People say the Savior knows my pain and felt my pain. I just can't connect with that anymore. Right now I don't care what he felt because I feel so full of pain. I am starting to hate that poem about two sets of footprints in the sand and then only one and that's when the Savior says, "I didn't leave you alone, that's when I carried you." I think that's such a crock. He's not carrying this. This is my cross, my burden. He's not making it easier to bear. It's fucking hard. Sorry for using that word but I need the worst word I know to describe how incredibly hard this is.
And I'm so tired of feeling like I have to feel guilty for being mad at God, for not believing in God, for not caring much about Christ. It feels like a belief out of fear and not out of love. That's what really bothers me. Why does religion cause me to feel so guilty and afraid? How is that making the most of my life? I'm so mixed up, messed up, confused, sad, alone. Incredibly alone. Though family and friends are there for me, this is not something anyone else can remove or bear. I can't take the pain from my own children's hearts. Everything about this sucks to the moon and back.
I miss you so much.
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