Having a particularly bad time at the moment.
I thought I was a bit ‘back to normal’. The ship had righted, so to speak. I was feeling more independent and looking to the future.
But today I feel like I’m walking around with a knife stuck in my soul. I feel bereft. I feel like the enormity of my loss is just going to keep hitting me again and again.
I’ve been doing some more sorting and have found some more lovely cards, from me to him and from him to me. A postcard from him when he was away alone, saying ‘wish you were here’ and ‘it’s not the same without you’. It’s gone in the ‘most precious things to keep’ box.
Also an early (fifth) anniversary card from my sister where she’s worked out how many days, hours, minutes, seconds we’d been together. Imagine how many seconds, after 29 years!
I can just feel echos of myself in the future, becoming a lonely recluse.
It doesn’t help that I’m pouring my heart out online and yet not a single person has read anything I’ve written yet. That’s another private horror. You see the internet as a means of expression, and yet whatever you write or create is a drop in the ocean, and if no-one’s looking at it, it’s still just a secret thought in your head, a file on your computer that no-one else will ever open.
I had 29 years of companionship and intellectual stimulation and humorous conversation, 29 years of shared memories and love and kindness and happiness.
Now it’s just me, wandering round on my own, feeling profound.
Oh John, it’s not the same without you!