I’m pretty good at keeping it together. Most of the time, I do okay. But some nights – some nights I’m not really okay. Some nights, the emptiness of a house in which I’m the only human left, is so incredibly loud.
It’s 6 o’clock on a Friday – normally this is the BEST time of the week – the whole weekend is ahead of me, and we have the next 48 hours + to be together without work obligations getting in the way – but now, does it even really matter?
It’s 8am on a Sunday, and I should be snuggling with you and enjoying sleeping in , but instead I have to get up to let the dogs out because I’m the only human left, and what do Sunday mornings even mean anymore, now that you’re not here? I have no one to make waffles with.
It’s 7am on a Monday – I should be laughing about how I should be getting up for work even though I want to keep cuddling with you. But now, the options are an empty bed vs. work. I still stay in bed, but more because getting up is so, so difficult, not because I *want* to stay in bed.
It’s 12pm on a Wednesday – I should be texting you asking how your day is, and celebrating the fact that we’re half way through the week. Now I let the dogs out while working from home, and trying to remember what day it is, because it all blends together.
It’s 5 o’clock on a Thursday, and I have no one to text to say that I have to stay a little late at the office.
If the train is delayed, there’s no one to let know that I’ll be a little later than I planned.
.
.
It is Friday night, a few too many glasses of wine. The sun has set as I’ve played games on your laptop computer, the one your dad bought you awhile back. My opponents have been nameless people in other places around the world, when really all I want is to be cuddled up with you. I didn’t turn any lights on, and now it’s dark, the sky a light blue outside, rapidly getting darker. The house feel so, so empty despite the steady snoozing of dogs that I hear in the background, one on the loveseat facing me, and one on the chair to my right.
I’m pretty good at keeping it together… but some nights, some nights I’m not okay.
Oh Trent, I’m so sorry. I can feel your pain, and am aching for you. I feel so much pain so often, and I don’t even care about pretending I’m ok because I’m not. These past 15 months are simply unbearable. Losing my Mattie came so fast and was so heartbreaking. I miss Sara so much, as well as little George, Suki, Eddie (my X) and now Mattie. It doesn’t even seem real. Now my wonderful grief counselor has Covid, so I’m worried about her. And, OMG, the world is so messed up. WTF?! How much can we stand.