Escape

Oh how I wish that I could take this body and escape.  I feel that I have reached my breaking point, and I am not sure how much more crying I could do today.  How I wish that the day before my surgery, back on the 13th of December, I would have picked up Lily one more time.  I would have laughed and played dolls, and just kissed her all over.  Or how I wish that I had Dylan sit on my lap and just hugged him for hours and told him that I am sorry that things would be so difficult.  I would want him to know that it is okay to be mad at me for being gone, but that I really wanted to be right there with him.  That he could miss me, but really I wish that he didn't need to know what that was like to miss me.  I wish that I would have spent more time worrying about being there with them and telling them, as best I could, how the next month would be, other than making sure the groceries were bought and the cleaning was done.  I wish that I could escape and go back to that moment.

I wish that I could be anywhere else than in my mind.  My thoughts that never sleep.  My mind that never shuts off.  Why? Why oh Why?  What is next for me?  When will this be done?  And even when I get my leg back the countless months of trying to be absolutely perfect this time, because the doctors strongly believe that my body cannot handle a next time.  That my body is too worn out, too tired and just has way too much scarring to take care of anything with my back.  So when they say years of recovery, and truly a minimum of a 1/2 year to even somewhat be ready for anything, I follow them to a tee.

I so wish that I could escape tonight and be anywhere other than here.  I am mad, frustrated, disappointed, sad, alone, and in so much pain that I did not know existed.  And then, Paul.  He is frustrated (and has right to be), scared, angry, sad and doesn't know how to handle anything right now.  We are two bodies at what I may be considering rock bottom, colliding with one another, because at the moment we don't know any other way how to deal.  If I could go back to that night before my surgery with Paul, when we were laughing and hugging, and holding one another.  I wish that I could tell him how much I love him for taking on the challenges of what would come next, and that I am sorry that this had to happen to us.  After all I loved that night we had together.

Why cannot I just escape?