Hello my dearest love. It’s Sunday night and I’m back at our house after spending the weekend at Mum and Dad’s. The last couple of days have been very like a little holiday from the abject depths of my grief. I’ve still missed you; I’ve still cried. But I’ve laughed more, smiled more, felt less sad.
On the drive back here, I wondered if I’d turned some emotional corner. I didn’t wonder about this with any sense of gladness or achievement, just curiosity. The more I thought about it, the more I felt this is just the top of the rollercoaster again, that I’ve felt relief and happiness at Mum and Dad’s because it was easier to pretend you’re not dead while I’m there. I used to stay there when you had to be in hospital for few days. I used to be parted from you when I had to travel for work. That’s what this weekend was, a couple of days apart from you. A little break from grieving.
A break I probably needed before I broke.
I’m far from functional or repaired, but I was getting very, very low. Dark thoughts circling and all that. A couple of days of playing Guitar Hero, going out with family and friends, enjoying good food and good company haven’t convinced me life without you is worth living. Having said that, as long as I do have to stay here – for the family and friends that mean so much to both of us – I’d like to have fun days again every now and then, just to ease the pain for a little while. It helps pass the time.
And now, I fully expect to be heading downhill at speed at any moment. I know this because, as I came near the house tonight, I remembered I wouldn’t be coming home to you, only to the absence of you, and it snatched my breath away. I still can’t dwell on the truth too long; it still hurts so, so much.
I love you and miss you.
You're gone 