Or I am truly becoming a masochist.
I went to church tonight. Alone.
Going to church more is part of my new years resolution since I tend to find peace there.
Or so I thought.
Or at least I used to.
I have only been there three times without Roger. His funeral. All Souls Day.
And today was the first day alone.
Yes, I realize I could ask someone to come with me but I do not want keep asking for favors.
I hate asking for favors.
It is just so hard being there.
Walking down the same aisle as my wedding eleven months ago.
Walking down the same aisle as the funeral four and half months ago.
Walking down the same aisle as the All Souls Day two months ago.
Today I walked down alone and I had to pick a pew alone.
As I looked around, there were couples and families and friends.
And I sat alone.
I remember a few months before our wedding looking forward to being an official family at our church.
We only went a few times as husband and wife after our wedding.
I loved having our hands touching as we stood during a prayer or holding pinky fingers with each other.
Part of me wants to run from this pain.
Part of me wants to try to find a new church to attend.
But I love this church.
I love the pleasant memories of being married there.
Of attending church with Roger.
My heart aches.
The return to normalcy is very painful.
I am really not sure I am ready.