Sometimes I look at the last few days or weeks and see separate, distinctive beliefs, feelings, wants, etc. Like having different personalities. No, I'm not schizophrenic.

One part of me wails and screams and sobs uncontrollably for my husband because I am so empty without him. There is no peace in that part of me. Another part has an unwavering faith. A wordless knowledge and complete understanding of all the reasons why, how, where, what... There is faith and peace within this part of me. There is a part of me that wants to be angry. Angry because he's gone. It screams and rages and burns and raves nonstop. There is a part of me that is afraid. Afraid that if I don't do things just right, I'll never see him again. A part of me feels him near. A part of me wonders if it's real. A part of me just exists. A part of me knows there is a reason. And a part of me hasn't got the strength to care. A part of me wants to live. A part of me wants to die.

And all of these parts are constantly arguing with the others. Did I really see that picture of him smile at me? Of course I did! There was no mistaking that. But I didn't have my glasses on and his face was blurry...was it just my eyes screwing up?

I want him with me! It's not fair! To who? Him or me? He was only going to get worse as time went on. So, who do I want to save from the pain...me or him. A thousand times him. So, how is that not fair, if that's what I would have chosen.

It goes on and on. Just a constant bombardment, unless I'm hiding away in my writing. But that, too is bittersweet. As soon as I finish a scene, I have to stop myself from calling to my husband to tell him I have something new to read to him.

There's no peace in my head most days. And sometimes I wonder how long before all these internal arguments from all these different perspectives drive me mad.