It never ceases to stun me ... the fact that I can be in a room full of people and still feel alone. It is a feeling that is so primal. It's like you are standing there and you can literally feel your soul crying, but you aren't outwardly, at least ... but then you have to escape so that you can.
I left these words on another widow's blog but decided to publish them on my own because it's how I feel every time I socialize.
Before Cliff died, even if he wasn't physically with me, I might have wished he was there, but I never felt like this. Just knowing where he was was enough.
I need to know you're okay
and yesterday, having shared with another widow that sunsets always set me off, yesterday's actually gave me comfort. Enough comfort to turn my sobs into real laughter.
I was standing looking out of my window at the sun setting over the hills behind our home, sobbing, begging him to give me a sign that he was alright. In my mind I thought - like pushing the sun so fast behind that hill so I KNOW. Then told myself off for being so ludicrous. I went into another room to fetch some laundry and returned to the spot I'd been standing before, and right before my eyes, through the blurred tears, the sun literally sank so fast behind that hill, that it took my breath away. At the risk of sounding dramatic, it was such a spiritual moment and I felt overwhelmed with love and the beauty of it. Sobs turned into laughter.
He's alright, I'm sure of it.