My Heart and My Head

 

I confuse my heart and my head often… metaphors rule my life. 

My heart is broken. 

How dare it continue to defy me and beat? 

Why can’t someone else have it? 

…if that were possible would they feel the pain I did with it?

I absolutely still do not believe she is gone. I AM FIGHTING WITH the word ‘widow’.

We loved to discuss and debate words and etymologies and…

I’m not a widow… she is still my wife… she is still in my dreams, my heart, my head, possibly the other room (my brain tells me that can’t be true but my heart…?)

I am drowning in horrible and harsh forms, bureaucracy will always demand that I tick that detestable and difficult box.

‘Widowed’. My heart feels like it is going to burn and melt and I will become nothing… I wish it would.

The first census we should have been ticking the ‘married’ option…

Just a box to them, they don’t care.

Just wipe her existence away. 

For what? 

It used to be so the correct amount and percentage of things in areas were available for those in that area… but there is genuinely nothing in any area suitable for my needs…how does ticking this new box that now applies and they demand I choose it and nothing but, help anyone?

My heart hurts for the insensitivities and hurts in this world.