The mornings feel okay – like, YES! I can make it! This isn’t the end of my life, my world – but around 3pm, 4pm, it hits and I’m overwhelmed with solitude. Utter solitude. And the hole is so deep, I know, I just KNOW nothing will ever fill it.
It doesn’t help that some people don’t feel I have a right to grieve, or that my grief is *excessive*. It’s been a week – is that excessive? I don’t think so. It isn’t as though I had time to get used to the idea.
We talked every day, even when we were “broken up” or grumpy with each other, every day for the last few years. I can count on my hand the number of days I didn’t talk to him over the last year – and that would be one hand. We had cell phones on the same plan because we had an open line to each other 24/7. We logged incredible minutes each month, teamed with IM conversations, and emails and face time.
Damn. I started with – “It’s a super sunny day….”
And it is. Right now, that’s enough.