Daily life without Mark is something I never want to get used to. At the same time I don’t want to be a screaming mess everyday. But 60 more years… 60 fucking more years…. It’s a horrible thought.
Coming to bed each night is getting harder and harder. I sit around waiting for bedtime to come because time can pass quicker while sleeping…. But the time comes and I delay because I know I have to shut off the lights and walk upstairs to another night without Mark by my side, another night with likely nightmares and no one to comfort them, another night without being able to feel his nighttime kisses on my lips, without his body wrapped around mine, another morning without waking up to his smiling face, another day without …without him here. It’s unbearable and happens every single day. So I sit here and cry and scream and tell him how much I love him and miss him. And the only sounds that respond are my own.
I think of people’s intentionally-helpful cliche sentences: “I’m always here for you”, “Call me anytime day or night”, “It’ll all get better with time.” ….it’s all such a load of bullshit and I’ve been through hearing it previously.
People make a promise to make themselves feel better about initially reaching out. But it’s easier for their own lives if they DONT see/hear it…me… Because that would mean facing such a fucking harsh truth and seeing what devastation awaits us all and they’re scared to. …so the calls will get even less than their current level of practically non-existent. …and the planned visitors will continue to cancel for fun plans instead of spending time with their depressed friend.