I hurt. A lot.

I am alive. This should be cause for celebration, right? But I don't feel like celebrating. I have missing pieces. Richard Allen Beals. The two will be joined and they will become one flesh. My husband, my beloved Richard Allen Beals, died at 2:30 AM on 05/17/2010. After years of battling cancer, he went to sleep. I have as much confidence as is possible in the Bible's promise of the resurrection. I have some solace knowing he'll live again. Knowing he's no longer in the excruciating pain he was in. But I want him now. Right now. Forever. Never to lose him again. I can't tell you all the things I need to say to him. I can't tell you how I ache to touch his knee to capture his attention when I see a beautiful summer night sky or drive down a shady picturesque city street. I can't tell you how heavy my body feels, how hard it is to breathe, how many tears I am capable of. At this loss. I lost my companion. My bedmate. My love. The other person on the planet that thought my life was more important than his own. I miss him so...I need him. I am not whole without him. For those who decry this, who say I lack, well, phooey on you. I loved him, and I miss him and oh what I would give to just hold him again. I will. But not soon enough. Don't hate me, Jehovah, for being dissatisfied...I am dust, and you formed me...and you designed me with this longing for my husband. And it has nothing to do with the marriage bed. You know this is true. O Jehovah, how do I live? Only with your help, and because life is precious. It is bitter. I know how Naomi felt. I have been given bitterness. These words...won't bring me what I want and need. They just say how I feel. I hurt. Real bad. A lot. More than I could ever imagine I could have.