Why

Did you ever just want to be dead? Let this life be over, try again. Just fucking scrap it. My kids are driving me crazy... I can't get the house cleaned up. I just can't. I clean the living room, start on the kids room, and the kids trash the living room. I tell Anya that I can't get her a cookie, so she goes into the cupboard and gets herself a cookie, and Pie gets an apple, and will spit the peel all over the floor, when I think they are just watching tv, and they aren't more than 10 feet from me. The messes, the whining... couple that with missing Emerald and feeling like dog crap all the time, and it makes for a wonderful day.

I wake up in the middle of the night crying. I miss her so bad. I actually peed the bed the other day. I have no idea what that was about. I wake up and I never remember anything. I would love to wake up and know that I was touched by my angel. The only dream I remember recently, left me waking up thinking that I had just abandoned Em at her Dad's and she was going to be mad at me. I woke thinking that I just had to call her. I want to be with her. I want to be here with Anya and Ian. I want to honor Emerald's memory and do right by her. I want my other two to grow up and know that I love them. I want so much.

I want to move to a new house, but I don't want to move to somewhere that has no Emerald history. I want this year to be over, but I don't want to write a year on a check that that doesn't have Emerald in it. I want to grow old and die, and yet I want it to be two years ago, so that I can relish in my daughters sweet hugs and kisses and hold her hand again, and watch her swim in the pool. And hear her call my name.

I want a gift from the santa's workshop. A silly gift I will probably never use, but will love all the same. I want to feel loved, and worthwhile, and I want to be happy.

I hate my life and yet I am the luckiest person alive. I want to capture my thoughts into words and write them down, yet I am ashamed that I think like I do.

I want to believe but I want to know what to believe in...

I constantly evaluate myself, thinking that I suck and trying to find a way to fix it, to find that people like me anyway... they like me a lot more than I like me. Maybe I am missing something.

I miss her... she knows it.