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Still kinda feeling bad, but there's always tomorrow.

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Not feeling well today at all. The infection in my teeth, I've been battling the last 4 months had me sleeping all day, today. My head is so hot, I feel as if I put a mercy thermometer in my mouth, that it would shatter. Going to another dentist tomorrow to get the 3rd round of antibiotics.

The reason I haven't had these teeth pulled is, every time we have the money to go to the dentist, there's no availability for the dentist. When there's an availability for the dentist, we don't have any money. Which is just about like my luck...I don't have luck because I'm blessed. That really sucks. As much as I enjoy being blessed, I'd like to have luck find me more often than every few years.

Oh well, I have known that Murphy's Law runs rampant throughout my life, since I was young.

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A letter to my husband. It's about how I'm doing without him almost 23 months after he died. He is greatly missed every day. From the beginning, I did not allow losing my husband of 16 years to get me down. I was yanked into being a 100% completely different person, into having to rely on others for my essentials, which meant I had to talk to them (so much for being antisocial). I used wear jeans and t-shirts. Now, I wear cleavage inducing, body hugging, head turning, feminine as all get out clothes with heels, and I wear makeup a lot more than I used to. Anyway, I wanted to share this with y'all so, enjoy: "MAKING IT"

I couldn't believe what I'd only half way heard from Ms. Linda. Your mom didn't studder when she said, "Oh Fuck it then! They're both dead!"  Did your mom and Ms. Linda really just come to give me the news  that you're gone? Were they seriously telling me that you were dead? 

It didn't take me very long to make the connection, and yes, that was exactly what they were sayin'. I didn't know how I was going the live without you. The last 16 years of my life had been about nothing you and me. I knew I'd lose the trailer, and that I'd give Clever Puppy to somebody who was in a better   I was to take care of her. 

For the majority of the first year, I was completely numb to any kind of feeling, except physical pain. And why would I? I was perpetually suspended in the shock and awe of losing you. 

That was then, this is now; almost 23 months later, and the only way I can say that I was capable of making it without you is because God picked me up, laid me across his arms, and walked me through the hurt and pain of losing you. 

I may be ditzy from time to time, other times people think my brains spilled out my head years before, but I'm not stupid by a long shot, and I'd be a miserable ratfink, slimy lying, dirty dog if I was to try and say I don't know how I got through that first year because I do. For me to try and live my without giving the good Lord above credit for pulling me through. If not for God, I wouldn't be here going on 43 years. 

I am a living and breathing example of what God does for someone when they have no idea how they're make it. No matter if they've lost their significant other or if they're not sure how they're going to pay their bills. I'm not ashamed to say, "It was God, and God alone who brought me through that storm. It was also God who kept those guys from choking me to death. It was God who kept me safe". I may have been upset with God over losing you, and yes, I even hated Him, but the one thing I never did was turn my back on Him. There was no way, on God's green earth or in the Heavens Above that I could have ever made it without Him. 

I'm actively sitting here trying to wrap my head around how I could have turned my back on my Creator, and I gotta tell ya, it's not even possible for that thought to play itself to the end. I finally got up the nerve in Alabama, when I left the bar that morning, that I hated for taking you away, but I'd rather step in front of an 18-wheeler before I'd turn my back on Him. 

God. God. God. 

God is the reason I was born. God is the reason I got 16 beautiful years with you. God is the reason I was able to make it beyond the first year with my life still in tact. God is the reason Steven and I found each other. He is also the reason I want to get a large plaque with "Footprints In The Sand" enscribed on it. I'm gonna get me something with that masterpiece on it, and I'm gonna hang it where everyone can see it. I'm gonna explain to them that I have experienced what's described in those words. 

Sometimes, I think I can actually see myself in God's arms. Other times, I could swear, I can feel Him holding me when I'm sad. I don't mean that He sent someone to hug me for Him or anything like that. What I mean is what I said, "I could swear I can feel Him holding me". There are so many things my senses have been opened up to in the past two years it's almost insane. I'm feeling things I've never felt before, and I'm not talking about "feeling" things with my emotions. I'm talking about feeling things happen physically that no one is supposed to feel. It's hard to explain what I mean by that on this platform so, I'mma leave that alone. 

But my point is, living my life the way it's going now is, because of God's Doin's. It sure wasn't my doin's because all I wanted to do was due in order to be with you. 

I know one thing is for sure, no matter if you're in Heaven or in the middle trying to take care of some unfinished business that you are proud of me. If you were still here, you'd be throwing me the biggest, loudest, ongoing, non-stop party in your own mind in order to show me how proud you truly are. You'd be showering with hugs and kisses to see that I can live without you. Hell, that didn't make one lick of sense. Now how is that if you were still here you'd be proud of my moving on without you? Uuuhhh….I don't know how that logic is supposed to make sense, but you know exactly what I mean. 

Writing letters to my husband is so therapeutic for my entire being. It helps me to shed some necessary tears. It helps me remember things I hadn't even given more than the first thought about in dozens of years. Writing helps me relax when I'm angry. It helps me smile when I don't think I can. Writing helps me believe in love. It helps me cope. I never understood the old addages about writing and the therapeutic aspect of it until your accident. But it's been another saving grace for me. 

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After much deliberation with myself, I've decided to take on the task of writing my 2nd 3-Book novel series. And to keep things interesting, I'm gonna write both series at the same time.

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For the first time since 2019, I have found myself happy and my partner, my boyfriend, my heart, my soul Steven Lee Bass is the reason for my happiness.

He sings, "You Are My Sunshine" to me.

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Changing up the name I'm identified by on here, keeps things fresh and fun.

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I've all but given up on posting my stories, anywhere. I just can't seem to find the gumption to even care about them. Why would I care about writing my novel series if I can't even get any of the people I've known the majority of my life to check anything out? He'll, I can not even figure out how to talk to people I don't know to generate traffic on my social media sites.

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The weather here in Houston, Texas has been anything but "normal", this week. I'm used to people not being normal, and the weather being the only thing in my life that is normal...until now.

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I've got a ton of stuff to do. Everything I'm working on is, getting a bit overwhelming. Can't take a break because I just won't get back to any of it, BUT, I'm calling a time out for the next 3 days:

From: 02/10/2021

To: 02/13/2021

Before I create burnout.

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Have you ever been in love? Are you still with them? How are things between the two of you now? Still in love with each other, no lie?

Have you ever lost the one you love? If so, how? Do you think you could ever love someone else? What's the hardest part of the separation for you?

If you chose to love again, what about yourself will you change in order to make it work in the next relationship?

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My favorite type of writing comes in the creative variety. My fourth grade creative writing teacher told me she always had a difficult time understanding and following the other stories. That she always put my stories on the bottom of the class work she had to grade. When I asked her why she said it was so she could lay down at night with a cool story on her mind.

After she told me that, I started writing 2 short stories as she graded the class work. One on top of the work and one on the bottom so that she had a cool story from the beginning, and as she finished she could read another awesome story before she fell asleep at night. Because of the teacher in that class, I wrote so many different things, for so long, that I had carpel tunnel by the time I was 12-13 years old. I would wake up writing and fall asleep writing.

Unfortunately, after I broke up with my boyfriend at the time, his family kept my notebooks, a year or so later, they move, because the house caught on fire. When I found this out, it threw me directly into writer's block. My second husband and our love for each other, got me into writing again. In April, my second husband will have been dead for 2 years, and my new love has put a smile on my face, a song in my heart and across my lips, and a poem in my head. I'mma need to take some classes to brush up on my writing because it sucks. It is mostly short sentences that are non-descript and are talking points about the characters.

My writing is basic.