Dreaded Anticipation

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Do you ever just dread a date?  An approaching date.  Like, a few years ago I DREADED my approaching 30th birthday.  The mere mention of said birthday was enough to ruin my entire day for weeks on end.  Funny thing, though, once the oh-so-dreaded 30th birthday arrived - it wasn't so bad!  It was just any old birthday.  Except, I was more fabulous.  Of course.

Why am I bringing this up? Because I am dreading another approaching date.  And, no, I'm not turning 30 again.  (Not yet, anyway) I am, in fact, dreading Saturday.

What?!  Dreading the weekend?! Shocking, I know.  I am dreading Saturday the 23rd because that day will mark 6 months since I lost Bentley.  6 months.  That's a long time.  Half a year.  I don't want to get to half a year because the next day, the 24th means I will have been without Bentley for more than 6 months, which means 1 whole year won't be that far off.  It is very, very sad.  And lonely.

So I have been all out of sorts lately and seriously dreading the approaching Saturday.  But, maybe - just maybe - Saturday, the 23rd, will be like my 30th birthday.  It will come and it will go without making too many waves and I will realize that the anticipation was worse than the actual day.  Maybe.