Conversation with, Letter to God

I pray to God everyday. God and I have conversations.  He's a good Listener.  And his advice/answers/responses are, shall we say, on the money.  But sometimes, I feel if I put down in writing, what I wish to say, it's out there, floating around in the infinite unknown, and know I really need some guidance (not that He doesn't know that already).  Call it a letter to God.

So God, I am so tired.  Tired of feeling lost, alone, hidden, abandoned.  I have placed these feeling upon myself, not You. 

I am lost because the people that I would turn to for support (besides You) through this are gone.  They joined You in your Beautiful Home. 

I am alone and hidden because I have pulled within myself away from people.  To get close to people means that I will get hurt.  I don't want to get hurt again.  And yet, I want to get out of this house, have fun again, meet people, move on.  And yet I feel guilty for feeling this way.  I should not want to get out, have fun.  I am in mourning.  How long do I have to mourn until it's OK to move on? 

I feel abandoned.  This one, this one is all the others rolled up and tied with a bow.  I feel abandoned because I am lost, alone, hidden.  I need another living, breathing person to talk to, to laugh with, to cry with, to be happy with, to be sad with.  The one person I had that with, for the good or bad we went through, the arguing we did, that one person is gone.  That one person I realize, let me let loos all my emotions on, no matter what came up.  I do not have that anymore. 

Yes, I have friends.  But with friends, you put on a brave face and let them see that you are getting through this, moving on,  being brave.  You don't let them see the underside, the emotional wreck you've become.  It's not a pretty sight.  One you don't want your friend to see.  One they don't really want to see either.

I am not really asking for anything God.  Just wanted to lay down this heavy load that I carry.  My mother always said You were the one that would help carry the load  when I couldn't do it anymore by myself.  Even though she's with You now, I still listen to my mother.