u/Far-Boss-2331

I really don’t get it. I honestly have not made any effort to live the past 30 days since he died. I go to bed hoping I don’t wake up, or at least not scared about not waking up. I don’t even feel anxiety the way I used to before.

He died at 38 years, 4 months and 13 days old. I am now 38 and 12 days old. Am I going to be older than him one day? For the kids sake, I hope so. For my own, I honestly don’t care.

I have spent my days with him at the cemetery. Just looking at the earth that now holds him because I can’t. Wanting to sink into it and wanting to drag him out.

I don’t know if I am dishonouring his memory by being so sad. If I am being dramatic. I don’t know if I am doing a disservice to our memories, to him, his life, our life, our love by being so consumed by sadness or of me being happy would be dishonouring him. I don’t know if there is ever a right or wrong answer to that question and you just never know.

We always said we wanted to be each others want and not a need. That we knew we COULD live without the other and chose not to and that’s what makes a relationship worth it. Yes, I would still say I needed him, because sometimes it truly felt like
I needed him to be able to survive some things that I honestly am not sure I could have come out of without him, or at least would have been stuck for a long time and worse off.

Now, I have continued to live without him. I don’t know how. I don’t want to and yet, tomorrow continues to come. The last 30 days show I can live without him and that I do not need him to live but that the want of him is so strong it feels like a need.

He felt like food for my heart, soul and mind. I need him more than I water and food. I have no appetite since he died. Since he left me here, even though he didn’t want to. He was so imperfect and flawed and told me I was as well (like only weeks into dating and honestly, it made me love him so much more by saying that).

He really allowed me to be the best version of myself. Now, she is dead and buried with him. I can’t stop envisioning him in his casket. Shrinking. Rings and clothes no longer fitting. All the items we placed with him moved around.

I hope, if he can see me. He is Catholic so I want to believe he can, as that is what he truly believed (I have not aligned to any religion at the moment). I hope he doesn’t see my pain but instead that when I cry all he feels and sees is love and smiles. That he only feels the love under my grief and isn’t burdened by my sadness and seeing how much his death has impacted me.

I hope he remembers me but doesn’t dwell on missing me like I do him, and that he is so filled with happiness and peace that fills his days he doesn’t feel time pass as I do and just feels so light.

I wish I could see him happy and free of life’s burdens and just hear him say my name and that he loves me one more time and recount when he knew he loved me.

Our memories are only mine now and I am so afraid they are corrupted because I no longer have his version. His perspective. There is only me.