Sorting things, sortingsortingsorting… Well, I try anyway. Can not make myself to sort out his clothes yet. It hurts too much. Trying to hit things head on, keeping my head high, going on, making every day work. Being responsible, making dinner, taking Junior to school, to scouts, ordinary things, every day things, and I guess that is what it takes to keep me sane, in some weird way.
And then I break down. Crycrycry, wanting to hit something, wanting to just scream. But Nah, Im strong, I can do this. And yes, I will. One day it will be a better day, one day I will move on for real. One day my smile will reach my soul, and I will be ok again. But not now, not today, not tomorrow and not on sunday either….
Dont know what I expect, really… Only 4 weeks has passed, today, and I think life would be back to some sort of normal. Silly huh! 4 weeks, a lifetime and no time at all…. There are so many things that hit me in the face all the time. I hear a song and I cry. I see the doves visiting our pidgeons and I cry. I do the effing dishes, and I cry. I see his stuff, and I can not move, can not do anything but touch it softly and crycrycry…. I make plans, what to do next day, next week, next year…. when ever energy will present it self again. But the plans I make are so connected to what we planned, to what we wanted to do, one day. And I die a little bit, for every plan, every dream, every memory that pops up, every impression, every scent, every thought of it all….. All the One day we should have had…..
One day, that will not come now. No matter how much I want it, the days we planned will not come. The dreams of growing old together is dead. The man that I met and married over 14 short years ago, is gone and I am now a widow.