Daffodils are possibly my favorite flower.  I love how they bloom while everything else is still dormant – heralding spring, as they say.  I have some in my front yard right now…so bright and cheerful.

I don’t feel like they’re mocking me exactly.  They’re still somehow hopeful…a sign of new life.  The problem is that I don’t want a new life.  I want my old life.  I don’t want hope – I want Matt.  This isn’t to say that I don’t have hope – or at least faith that I will be hopeful at some point in the future; it’s just that I get hung up on just not wanting this to be real.  I KNOW it’s real – there really isn’t any denying that.  But that just hasn’t changed how I feel about it… or at least my feelings don’t stay changed.  

I’m reading a book – No Time to Say Goodbye – by Carla Fine.  Subtitle is “Surviving the Suicide of a Loved One,” and in the author’s case it was her husband.  I’m really liking the book so far, and read this paragraph today –  “The pain is something you have to experience.  There is such a lack of control and there’s nothing you can do about it.  There is no answer.  Crazy things happen in our world, but you can’t dwell on why they’re happening to you.  It’s just romanticizing your situation.  With hope, you come to terms with it.”  These are things that I keep telling myself.  Sometimes they help (which is to say, make me feel better for a bit).  

I…just…don’t know what to say.          

three weeks

Three weeks, around 11:30am.

The mornings are still the worst. I had to force myself to get up and take a shower this morning. I just don’t care…I don’t want to go about these “normal” activities when everything is still anything but normal. I don’t want to go to work and have to pretend to be “fine” all day long – at least when I’m dealing with customers. I don’t want to do anything without Matt.

I guess I can tell that I am gradually getting more used to doing things without Matt. I shouldn’t say “used to” because that’s not really accurate. “Resigned to” is better. But that’s not even accurate either because sometimes I can’t even deal with being resigned to never see Matt again. It’s so unbelievably depressing. All I can do – pretty much literally – is just to keep putting one foot in front of the other and hope that it’s enough. I want to be happy again, and I know Matt certainly wanted that for me too. It’s going to take me a long time to get there, I can tell. I can’t do anything about it though – except keep trudging along. Missing Matt every step of the way with every fiber in my being.

I keep trying to find comfort somewhere – anywhere. All I want is for Matt to be here, comforting me, rubbing my back, helping me clean the house, going to the Brewhouse — doing whatever he wants. This is the least comforting thought though, since I’m never, ever going to be able to do any of these things with him again. Three weeks later and this isn’t any better or easier yet. I might be making progress, and I think I probably am, but it’s excrutiatingly slow and painful.

In the meantime I have to keep going to work. I have to keep paying all of my bills, and feeding the cats. I have to figure out how to cancel Matt’s cell phone plan and his bank account, and his car insurance. Maybe I should have done that stuff already – I don’t know. I don’t want to say that I hate my life right now because that just sounds melodramatic to me, but I am really not fond of it. I’m glad for all of my friends, but the love from everyone combined doesn’t even begin to make up for the love that is gone. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful because I am VERY grateful. But it’s just true.

EDIT: I used the chat feature and was able to cancel Matt’s cell phone plan. The guy waived the early cancellation fee and told me he would pray for me and all that. I know he’s supposed to act that way, but it ended up being much simpler than I had been anticipating. Now to the car insurance and bank accounts.