There was a couple at my church that were crazy about each other. You could tell how much they adored each other as they held hands and nuzzled while listening to the sermon.
They were in their 40's, just married. He worked in construction for the city. To this day, I still don't know what Susan does for a living.
I remember the day of the accident. He was critically injured on the job. They airlifted him to Chicago. He didn't make it.
Months after the accident, I house-sat for Susan. All of his belongings were still in the same place from the day he left for work.
It was heartwrenching.
What I remember most from this event was seeing my mom sobbing after it happened. I didn't understand why she was so sad.
"I wanted that. I use to be so jealous of what they had. I remember praying to God and asking for what they had. I was so jealous and upset that I couldn't have someone that loved me like they loved each other. Look what happened to them. I would pray for that life and look what happened to them."
My mom was raising us alone, divorced. She was so strong and never once complained. The kindest and most generous person I know. She was single for years after the divorce and I never even realized how lonely she must have felt.
Looking back now, I find myself wanting what she wanted. I find myself longing to have a partner. To have comfort among the difficulties I'm working through. To raise kids together. To go hiking together. Go on adventures together. Someone to stay home with and just be silent with. Someone to love and feel safe with.
I've tried so hard not to complain about where my life is right now. I've stayed strong and positive. I understand where I am on my path, and where I've come from. I see my goals clearly and the next steps to healing from the trauma. I feel God's path and I've been excited about it.
I'm mad, heartbroken. Fall asleep crying. Wishing I was normal. I was so mad on my call with my therapist. "I just want to be normal. People get divorced and then get married or get pregnant quickly all the time. I want to be like them. I want to move on. I want to make irrational decisions. I want to date. I want a normal life. None of this is fair. None of this is fair. I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to have episodes. I'm tired of all of this. It's taking too long."
"It's not fair, Hallie. You're allowed to be upset."
I thought about my mom crying as I listened to her admit her jealousy of someone else's life. I'm jealous, too.
Then I thought about my mom meeting my stepdad months later. They were set-up on a blind date. And that was that. They fell in love, and now I call him, "Dad."
I have to trust in God's timing. I have to trust in the timing of my healing.
I still get exhausted easily.
It still takes me a while to process and rebound after an episode.
I still spiral.
I've only been living alone since July.
There's still time.