Flashback

I had a moment just now where my mind forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving on, moving forward, letting go of the pain. I flashed back to what my life used to be. It's not so different now. In fact it's much the same. There's just this one piece that isn't there anymore. And I can't even fathom it. How did I get here?? Where did the last 23 years of my life go? Sometimes it is hard to believe that I actually lived them. Suddenly I'm standing here in my house that I own, surrounded by my stuff, my kids in their rooms, my dog outside, my family all only a few miles away...and I don't know how I got here. And I don't know why John's not here with me. The why of it all is the real kick in the teeth. Yeah, I can live without him, yeah I can take care of my family by myself, yeah I can make due in any circumstance with God as my rock...but WHY?
I want to go back. I desperately want to go back to my wedding day, to do things differently. Set a different plan in motion that doesn't end this way. I think up until this moment I thought I'd used my time wisely. Up until just now, I thought I'd taken advantage of every opportunity I had to be with John. But right now, all i can think of is how many times I could have done something different, been more mature, more encouraging, more open. Because every single opportunity I had to love him is gone. There are no more chances. And though I loved him with every piece of me, never let him doubt how much I cared and respected him, and never left his side, somehow I still have regrets. But I think it all boils down to this: I regret that I can't be with him now. I can convince myself that I wasn't good enough, nice enough, didn't love enough while he was alive. But I know that's not it. The sadness and anger I feel is not for what I didn't do, but for what I don't get to do anymore. 
I'm betting there's still a piece of my brain that believes he's just gone for training and will be back eventually. I know that he's not, I'm not in denial. But I don't know that all of me will ever accept his absence as normal. I look at his pictures and this line keeps repeating in my brain, "He's gone. He's not alive anymore. He may look healthy, strong, and beautiful, but he's no longer alive." I think that line keeps replaying in order to convince me that it's true. That trick may never work. 
Dear John, 
I miss you. Every single day would be better if you were here. Your kids would be happier, my life would be fuller, and many others would be touched by you every day. This really sucks, Babe. And I don't get it. 
-Amber