I hate that for so long your absence felt normal. Should I be thankful for the delayed grief due to our prior distance or has this made processing your departure more difficult?
Its been about three months since you left, unwillingly but ready. I see you in everything, wonder how you would have enjoyed each new experience I have in the place you've called home the last several years.
Your friends are becoming my friends now. I think all of us are trying to grasp on to any small part of you that we can in a way to keep you with us. I'm not sure if this is helping or hurting us. Even people I meet who didn't know you directly seem to be connected to you in some sort of way and have a story to share about it. It's truly incredible how many people you have touched.
It feels like half of myself has disappeared. You lived vicariously through me as I impulsively followed every whim that entered my heart and I watched you live the life I originally wanted for myself – stable and steady. I'm finally looking for a balance between the two now that you're not here to be a guiding light, a grounding presence.
It's such an odd feeling to know that from now on, everything I experience, everyone I meet, any children I have will be unknown to you. You were the singular person that knew every detail of my life and myself in full color with no filters. I feel an aching deep in every part of my body when thinking about how I will never know or be known by someone the way we shared again.
I find myself wishing I still believed in God. Mourning for you has reopened the wound of mourning for my lost faith. I crave the comfort that would come thinking about where you are now if I truly believed in a god and an afterlife. Thinking about how now, for you, there is just nothing shakes me in a way I have never known before. I can't comprehend it.
I'm still figuring out how to best live without you. Maybe I'll spend the rest of my life trying but never figuring it out.