Pouring myself out

I'm sitting in my car at a neighborhood park, trying to work up the nerve to get out and socialize but the tears won't stop welling up in my eyes and the lump in my throat won't go away.

I'm meeting with other young couples from church in a community group. I met them a few weeks ago and shared my testimony and they were all so gracious and accepting. I'm pouring myself into relationships, moreso than before. I read somewhere that instead of looking at what I need from life, I should look at what life needs from me. So I'm pouring myself out as much as I can. I'm pushing myself to give of myself. And I can't lie, I'm hoping it'll help me move through this grieving also.

It's hard, especially right now as I watch them unload their strollers and their 4 and 5 year olds go frolicking in the field. They're my age. They have the life I wanted: the marriage, multiple kids, good jobs. That's what I signed up for...not THIS. I had Bub so young (21) that he's a teenager now and not up for picnics at the park with the littles anymore. So even though I fit in with the moms and dads age-wise, we are on totally different pages when it comes to the kids and now marriage/life.

It's sad because it's not just Mark that died on January 6th. My dreams died. My hopes for a baby died. My plans for the future died. Part of me died. So as I pour myself out I realize more and more how empty I am. This is hard as hell and I'm worn out. Dear God help me.