this week

The worst are the mental pictures that just pop into my mind sometimes. That evening last year when Matt missed the bus and I went to pick him up at the Corner Bar on Elliston. I can just see him sitting there, slumped, blue shirt, curly hair, face that I would give ANYthing to kiss again.

I don’t have much hope of not crying at work this week, especially with mental images like this one. I don’t want to remember what he looked like – all it does it make my jaw hurt from holding back the sobs.

I can’t think of any words that would communicate how I feel, really. Maybe tragically hopeful. But there are more modifiers in there too, like “despairingly” and “hopelessly” and all that. This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me, hands down, and because I am completely unable to “fix” anything, it just makes me feel hopeless and desperate because my hands are tied. On the other hand, I’m going to keep going, keep searching for the good in life. But it’s SO FUCKING HARD some times. Because even 6 months in, all I want is Matt. I just want to kiss his face, make him chicken pie, go grocery shopping with him, spend every single free minute that I have with him. But I still can’t do any of that.

I know, these blog entries all tend to sound the same. Sorry. I still miss my Love with my whole heart and body and mind though, so my brain sounds redundant most of the time anyway.

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I'm a young, childless widow who is trying to figure out the best way to deal with the world in light of my late husband's suicide. It's harder than I ever imagined it would be, but somehow at the same time I am still alive and even happy sometimes.

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