I know exactly what I should do. I should call a friend. I should go out to meet someone. I should ask someone to pray with me. I should not stay quiet and alone. But I stay silent. The loneliness feels too heavy, too high to climb over. I sink deeper behind a wall that will not move.
I convince myself others have their own lives. They are pursuing a life to glorify God. They are peacefully living their lives. Why do I want to disturb them? I will be fine with Ben, won’t I? The truth is, I am not. No, I am not fine.
I get up (I still cannot get up early consistently). I go through my day. I connect with others online. The pain is always there. A friend asked me whether I was still in grief. I told her yes. I did not have to think about it. I know.
I am swallowed up by the silence despite what is playing on the computer. I am engulfed in loneliness despite my awkward (and failed) attempts to connect with others via my blog.
I read God’s promise, “I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” I believe it with my mind, but my heart shakes. I want to reach out, but my hands will not move. I feel lost.
In the meantime, I am risking the effects of smoking fifteen cigarettes a day.
Maybe tomorrow. I will meet someone for lunch.
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