Good old, Fiona. Thank you for always understanding.
I feel a bit lost. D and I spent a lot of yesterday fighting. Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I should just be satisfied? It’s difficult to not feel misunderstood and lonely. Nobody understands how I’m feeling, even when I try to explain it. It can’t really be explained. You won’t know until it’s your turn.
I feel as though I probably have one good year left in me. I might be wrong. It could be many more than that. It could be less. All I can say is what I feel inside, and I feel as though the time is running out. I feel that very acutely right now. As a result, I feel a desperation to tie up loose ends. I want to go on separate trips with the kids. I want to bond with them by traveling one-on-one. Yesterday, I blew a bunch of money on Hamilton tickets, because my kid loves it (and won’t stop singing omg) and I want to be the one to take him. I want to have that experience with him.
I don’t want to fight about money. I don’t want to fight at all. I know I’m an overly emotional person. I feel as though I’ve grown a lot and can keep it in check most of the time, but I cannot seem to keep it in check when we talk about my cancer and the end of my life. I just can’t. And I’m not going to apologize for that. I’ll apologize for a lot of other shit, but not about the fact that I am broken hearted about leaving everything I love behind. I won’t get to see my kid grow up. I won’t be at graduations and weddings. I won’t get to see my grandkids. It’s fucking brutal. I feel gutted whenever I think about it, like it’s a fresh wound every single time.
I don’t know what you want me to do. I’ve gotten pretty good at pushing the bullshit aside and moving forward despite everything. That continues to be my plan. But I’m going to have bad moments, days, weeks, and I need more support. I need more understanding. I need more.