I have been brought up with strong religious ideologies. However, they haven’t helped me. I have been trying to apply my faith to my situation and trying to understand what faith really means to me, my two young children, and life when someone we loved so dearly was now in heaven or maybe the afterlife.
I spent the first few weeks after his passing barely surviving. I live each day as a routine that has taken away my passion for life. A routine based on fear of the future and dictated by my ego to protect myself and my kids.
Presently I hate my life, my future, and every moment of everyday. Somewhere deep inside I even feel envious of all those happy families. I am a bitter angry young widow filled with dark thoughts. Not a pretty picture, and one I’m not proud of. But the truth remains unchanged and the days go by and the mechanical survival routine continues.
And till date whenever I think of you, I wonder: “Where did you go?”