I’ve been dreaming about him more and more lately. The other night, I dreamt that he was sitting at our kitchen table, and I had three days to tell him he was going to die. But everyone kept calling. I kept trying to get off the phone, and finally, I got down on my knees and prayed, asking God NOT to take him again. I remember begging. I find it strange that the keyword was “again”

He was calm and friendly, and waiting to talk to me. I wish people had stopped calling. I didn’t want to talk to them.

Last night, I dreamt about the mortuary. I dreamt that they were carting people in left and right, and some weren’t even dead. My mom was one of them, and she was blue, but was crawling off the stretcher, and forcing herself to breathe. I was so relieved. I didn’t want to have to bury her too. I also talked to a black lady who had recently died, and was buried there. She thought her family spent too much money.

Then, I left. I went to this new neighborhood where I was preparing for Aurora’s birthday. Jon showed up and asked me who I invited. I was glad he was there, because I needed his help. He helped me set up for the party, and we were laughing, because we didn’t know Palm Mortuary hosted birthday parties. (Somehow, no matter where I went, I was at the mortuary)

Then some of our neighbors were picking on our dog, and I went to investigate and one of them tried to rape me. Jon eventually fought him off, but I was scared to death. He was adamant about not wanting me around this guy. I felt a feeling of temporary safety, like, “he’s here, and I’m ok.”  The attacker kept persuing me, too.  I was almost tempted to let him, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why I was tempted, but Jon kept me from allowing him to over-take me. It wasn’t like I was attracted to him, but that I didn’t want to fight him off anymore.

I think I need to be extremely cautious about what I run to, in the coming months. I have a tendency to get into relationships FAST. This time, I’m making a conscious effort to stay single, and avoid a “Next”, which I have never done. (Seriously – I’ve had a boyfriend/husband since 1991.) I’m afraid of the loneliness,but I’m more afraid of what will happen to my girls. Appeasing my Skin Hunger isn’t worth their safety, and/or emotional health.

I think I feel really vulnerable, now that he’s gone. We had that stupid break-in in December, and although I realize that all of my friends would show up on my doorstep should something happen, I feel like I’m on my own, protecting my daughters.

I have never felt so vulnerable in my entire life. I need to learn to kick some serious ass. My bar-fight experience simply won’t cut it. And I’ve survived my own attacks on my person (secrets best left without details), but my children are all I have. And if they don’t have me, then who will protect them?

For the first time since this happened, I’m sorta pissed at God. Taking Jon, and leaving me to deal with heartbreak and loneliness is something I can accept.

But I’m the last barrier before my girls. THAT is unfair, and I’m putting Him on notice. He’d better not allow them to get hurt. Ever. I can only do so much on my own. I realize this means I might live a long, lonesome life, but my mindset says that’s OK, right now. As long as I can take care of us. As long as nothing happens to me that puts them at risk.

Jon can’t save me anymore.

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