It's been four months since I found my best friend and life partner deceased that tragic afternoon. I had to get some blood drawn today after work, and like usual, I got weird and felt super depressed. You see, Jason would usually take me to these appointments, and he was the last one to do so around this time last year. It's been stormy all day long, which he always loved - the rain, thunderstorms in general. I cried on my way home from the appointment, because I was so full of ...him. And of course, when I walk through the door to our home, the cats that we loved together made me feel better. I call out to him as if he's still home, waiting for me. It gives me comfort to do that, even if it also makes me feel like I have gone completely nuts.
The rain was never my kind of thing, and I dreaded those sleepy days. But they made him happy, and now they make me feel that same way.
Our cat Esper sits with me on my desk as I type this, as she's pretty spooked from all the banging and clashes from outside. She normally went to him whenever she was scared - he was her sanctuary, and I was the one she'd go to for food, treats, and to play. Now, she's learning that I am all she has now. I feel that I mourn not only him, but our future, and unborn children that never had the chance to become something more than a dream.
Oh, what dark times that are here for me. Are there any other widows who may be able to understand this heartache? Even if not, thank you for reading. It's nice to be back. And I hope to write more when the mood strikes me.
