I started to cry a little this afternoon and I am not quite sure why. It is the end of an era, and the beginning of a new one. I stood in front of the man I had been married to for so many years. My high school sweetheart. We basically grew up together in our younger-adult years. We had to learn as we went, and I don't think we got everything right. If we had, we would still be together.

I don't know how I feel about him, truly. Standing there talking to him today, he is not...

Knowing that we would part from one another today, we lay there in bed last night, cuddling as normal. My hands glide across his chest and stomach and nearly touches his hand. Suddenly I feel his hand grasping mine. I lift my head to look at his face and he says, "You know what?" I say, "What?" He then, with a bit of a giggle, says, "I think I just love you, Ma'am...."

I can't help but smile when he says little things like that, and that is exactly...

I woke with his arms around me this morning, and they felt so good. This, the eleventh anniversary of my mothers death, I woke with loving arms wrapped around me. That is the very first time that has ever happened since I lost her.

Every year before this one, on this day, have all been tearful.. I have not shed the very first tear. I think my mother would be happy to see this in me.

RIP Mom. I will never get over your loss, but I have finally learned to be happy...

This has been a very different year for me, I am learning. I have learned to allow myself to be truly loved as well as to love myself. It has taken a lot to be able to do, and truthfully, I am not fully there.

I sit here across from him as he sleeps. I look at him and think of how much I love him and how he has really changed my life and helped me be the person I am. The person I have been all of these years has been bottled up inside of me.

Tomorrow will mark...

I feel the warm touch of his skin as his hand slides across my stomach and touches my hand. We lay in the quiet darkness on this early December morning and I turn to him. His lips touch my cheek as I reach my hand to his face. His skin is freshly shaved and soft, but for where his goatee is.

Softly my hand moves across his cheek and my fingers run through his hair. My eyes have now adjusted to the darkness and I can make out the lines of his face. I can see his eyes as they watch...