Today I'm despondent, missing you and lethargic.
Laying on my sofa with our dogs, still in my PJ's.
The house is a tip. The mail remains unopened for a week. Phone calls un-returned.
I opt for solitude because I can cry unashamedly and often. I can speak to you. With you even. I opt for solitude because it feels as though I am with you.
The leg of lamb I bought at a reduced price (you'd like that) as a treat for the dogs still remains in the freezer, for I cannot bear the smell permeating our home, as it would have done, had you still been alive.
Subjected to a fourth night of sleeping on this sofa because of the spider in our bedroom.
I've stayed in since Friday morning when I spent those hours in Stockbury, and missed all that lovely weather. Just as I have missed you.
I activated our old AOL email addresses on my iPhone because I finally realized that I still had those even though I changed my internet provider. It hurt to see the business address there. Your construction firm's address. Another reminder of broken dreams. It hurt to see a couple of emails received from friends addressed to both of us. Us. Before. My old life.
I look in the mirror these days and don't even recognize myself. The sparkle in my eyes has turned to a deadness. My smile is forced. My cheeks sunken. I look like a fucking heroin addict. I don't look like your Boo. It would sadden you and worry you so much and it makes me feel like I've let you down.
I've done a lot of grief work which is reflected in the amount of posts to my blog. It's exhausting, it bares my nerve endings again whilst healing me some more. It brings me some peace, but at a cost.
Time to have a break from grief work now.
Back to work tomorrow.
I miss you so much it's unspeakable, baba.
Is that why you keep coming to me in my dreams? Please don't stop. Not yet.