Well you know those times
When you feel like there's a sign there on your back
Says I don't mind if ya kick me
Seems like everybody has
Things go from bad to worse
You'd think they can't get worse than that
And then they do
You step off the straight and narrow
And you don't know where you are
Use the needle of your compass
To sew up your broken heart
Ask directions from a genie
In a bottle of Jim Beam
And she lies to you
That's when you learn the truth
If you're going through hell
Keep on going, don't slow down
If you're scared, don't show it
You might get out
Before the devil even knows you're there
Well I been deep down in that darkness
I been down to my last match
Felt a hundred different demons
Breathing fire down my back
And I knew that if I stumbled
I'd fall right into the trap that they were laying, yeah
But the good news
Is there's angels everywhere out on the street
Holding out a hand to pull you back up on your feet
The one's that you've been dragging for so long
You're on your knees
You might as well be praying
Guess what I'm saying
If your going through hell
Keep on going, don't slow down
If you're scared don't show it
You might get out
Before the devil even knows you're there
Yeah, If you're going through hell
Keep on moving, face that fire
Walk right through it
You might get out
Before the devil even knows you're there
If you're going through hell
Keep on going, don't slow down
If you're scared don't show it
You might get out
Before the devil even knows you're there
Yeah, If you're going through hell
Keep on moving, face that fire
Walk right through it
You might get out
Before the devil even knows you're there
Yeah, you might get out
Before the devil even knows you're there.
It's been a little while since my last blog. Life is crazy right now. I feel like I don't have time to stop. I guess this is the life of a single parent. Since my last blog my son has turned 11. Time is moving too fast. Time is moving further away from Wes, and making my little boy grow up too quick. I wish I could stop time and savor every moment. It's like I'm caught up in a world wind. I keep thinking "if I can just make it to summer." Summer is right around the corner, but it seems so far away. Sometimes I'm glad I'm busy. It's when I stop that the sadness creeps back in. In a few months it will be 2 years since Wes' death. It still seems so unreal. I am not sure if it will ever seem real. You would think that by now it would have sunk in, but I still have my days when I feel like he's just at work. I would give anything if that were the truth. I wish he would walk through the door at 6:30 and I could hear him griping about work. Those gripes would be the sweetest words. I see all around me people expecting perfection in their relationships. There is no such thing as a perfect relationship. There are days you love each other, and days you can't stand each other. There may even be days that you wish you had never been married. That's normal, but it's not a reason to give up. One of my parents always told me it takes 2 to make a marriage work, but only 1 to give up. So if your stuck in a rut just keep going. You will get out of it. It may take longer than you want, but keep fighting. Even if I could only get the bad times back, it would be enough. My heart breaks when I see friends or family go through rough spots in their relationships. I wish I could tell them that I would give anything for a rough spot. Good times or bad...at least their partner is still there. You can hear them yell, you can hear the door slam, but you also get to feel their embrace when the fighting stops. I want Wes back so bad. Even if he only yelled at me, at least I would hear his voice.
If you are having a rough time in your relationship please take a breath, and remember you are lucky that you still have a relationship you can fight for. So fight for it! Do it for those who don't have an option.
Wishing there was yelling instead of silence,
Stella
Christmas morning 2008...and yes, I chose this picture because I know Wes is probably yelling at me for using it.
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