How could I possibly survive a single day without you here… how could it possibly be 900 days since we got to hold one another and say I love you… I miss you dearly, Lover. I miss you every day and every night. Nothing and no one could ever compare to you. My love for you burns just as strongly as it did the day you were taken.
I questioned a lot in the early days, and still do, of how to do this… how do you live when the love of your life has passed. I still question though know there is no answer. I remember going to the bookstore within the first six months and searching the grief section for something to hold on to, something to guide me through and give me hope. Instead, I left in even more tears, with no answers and no understanding. There are no answers to give. Simply the clinging to whatever is left, whatever you can, to make it to the next day. I still question what for… why would one be left? How could there possibly be anything in this world for me? How could it be possible that that was the end of his life? Wasn’t there still so much for him to be here for? Wasn’t I enough? I know he didn’t have a choice, yet it remains to feel so unfair. Life is unfair. I learned that at a young age. Yet death is unfair as well. Evading those who yearn it while attacking others unexpectedly. Lurking around the corners. No one is safe.
I think of how many people have gone through this sort of journey, of losing their most precious person in the universe… how did they make it through? What makes this journey so different from theirs? Everything and nothing. …Absolutely everything …yet astoundingly nothing. I am so sorry that anyone else must feel this pain. None of it is fair, none of it is just…. it simply is.
I didn’t really understand how widows would state, “the sorrow simply becomes a part of you and you learn to live with it.” How fucking cruel is this world?! You learn to live with a broken heart. You learn to live with a gaping hole in the remainder of your life. You learn that life continues on without the most crucial part. ….I don’t even think we learn that…. it just happens because we have no choice in the matter. I understand them now, yet hate the reality. Who couldn’t.
I still expect him to come home, to be beside me when I wake, to be able to answer my incessant ‘I love yous’. I hope he knows how much I continue to love him. Yet I hope he does not have to feel this pain of separation, or bang his head against the wall in watching me falter my way through the remains. I still have no idea of what my beliefs are. I want him to exist somewhere so we could be together again. I don’t know how he, the love of my life, could simply cease to exist in any form whatsoever, aside from memories. Yet I do not understand how he could be elsewhere.
I want to hold you, Honey… I want to hold you and never let you go. My love will not falter or fade. You burn within me with every second I must face in this world without you.
Awoke from a dream of you, thinking you were at work, I made to grab my phone to message you how much I miss you.
Heart pounding. It was so great to see you. It is so hard missing you. Love you with all of my heart and soul. Mykylyhycwy
I finally did the next phase of sorting through my husband’s clothing closet… Three piles: ‘to keep’, ‘to send’, and ‘to donate’.
For some reason I couldn’t touch his work clothing yet, but the remainder has been completed.
I know this house is too big for me, so I will continue to sort through both his and my belongings to downsize… I’m not ready to sell or move, but I am at least in a place where I’m able to make some more decisions than ‘I must keep it all.’
I had hoped on making some big trips this year during the nice weather. I gradually kept decreasing their grandeur until I was left with short visits that I felt I could manage on my own. Even that has proven to be difficult, as I cut my visiting down by multiple days after experiencing a meltdown hours away from home. Thankfully it was while visiting very understanding friends who weren’t offended by my quick departure. Others, however, still amaze me with their insensitive comments… “you have to move on” or “you can’t feel like that“. Don’t tell me how I can or cannot feel. I have made such progress in the day-to-day, have made some new friends, and have positive hobbies to occupy myself, yet the moment I creep back even just for a day, I am berated for having feelings. I am allowed to feel whatever I need to feel whenever I need to feel it.
Having a hard time with the family aspect lately. Hearing of new babies, first steps, exciting family events… It’s overwhelming. I miss my husband so damn bad. Some part of me still believes that if I tell him enough of how much I love him and miss him that he’ll magically reappear from the grave. Whole. Both him and I.
I am still so broken and don’t know if I will ever find myself again.
I have generally been doing well lately but there are always days like this. They still come out of nowhere. They still suck. The recovery from a meltdown does not take as long as it once did, but the pain is always there. My brain has somehow shielded me from half of my memory because I simply cannot survive without him by my side. I pretend like I know what I’m doing and that each day isn’t painful to live. I think I’m convincing everyone. Sometimes even myself.
Alone in this big house. Just me. No husband. No children. No sound. I know I need to move at some point, but it’s not the time for that yet. Until then, our baby bedding remains in the closet, unused. I am my family of one.
We had been trying for kids for a couple years with no luck. We’d been to through the medical testing and told nothing was wrong. We’d been given a prescription for fertility pills but hadn’t filled it yet.
I wanted so much to give him children. For us to make a family of our own. To raise them with him. “Our kids will be so smart!” “Our kids…” “Our kids…” “I can’t wait to teach them [this] or [that]”… We dreamed of them for so long and couldn’t wait to meet them. He wanted four… I was leaning towards two. We had their names picked out already. We had everything in place and were fully prepared to bring them into the world.
And now it’s just me… Curled up with our never-to-be baby’s quilt, alone on Mother’s Day.
Miss you sweetheart, every single day.
I’m running out of strength to get back up. Screaming, hyperventilating, bawling, rocking back and forth … I still don’t know how to do this.
Love you always, my handsome nutbar
Some are haunted by smells… I am haunted by sounds.
…I can still hear myself screaming at the top of my lungs upon finding my husband dead… I can still hear the policeman tell me that despite all efforts, they were unable to revive him… I can still hear my mother bawling when first hearing the news… Everyday I hear these sounds, along with the silence that now hangs thickly in the air of our home…
…I miss his voice, his sweet words, his regular giggles and full-out belly laughs… I miss his ‘I love you’s and his quick witted remarks, his cheesy jokes and his footsteps while running to kiss me… I miss his mini snores, the sound of him breathing beside me at night, and his heartbeat…
Love you every day, Lover, mykylyhycwy
Today I went browsing through furniture stores; it’s something we liked to do now and then to get inspired with ideas. I came across this picture on the wall and couldn’t stop staring at it. I couldn’t figure out if I loved it or hated it. To me, it represented where we now stand… In the rain, looking upon the grey ahead, nothing clear in sight. We may look put-together, but to the one who pays attention, our shoelace is untied representing how we quietly unravel behind closed doors. Our only protection is this flimsy umbrella which regularly gets turned insideout at the slightest gust.
I continued on in the store and was approached by a salesman who couldn’t have seen me snap the photo of the art based upon where it/he was located. He asked me if he could ask my opinion and if I liked yellow… He then took me over to the very same artwork and explained that he was debating on purchasing it for his wife but was unsure if he should since art is subjective. I was stunned and couldn’t provide him with my opinion except to say maybe he should provide her an option by taking photos of a few.
As I carried on through the store, I wondered what he saw in the artwork and why he would think to purchase it for his wife of all people…. I presume it also appears calming, perhaps the world washing away and the yellow presenting happiness glowing through…? Perhaps a reminder of playing in puddles as a child…? I thought perhaps I should ask him his thoughts or tell him what it portrayed to me and kept an eye out for him the rest of my time in the store, but it’s as if he vanished as quickly as he appeared…