I am sitting here doing what I wanted to do all day – crying. Crying about what isn’t, what is gone. I am an emotional wreck because today was the first day of school. This would have been the first day of the new school year since Kevin retired. That fact really hit home when I went on Facebook and saw a picture of one of Kevin’s co-workers sitting in a lawnchair in her pjs, a cup of coffee in her hand, in front of the school that she taught at with Kevin. This was something he would have done, laughing and calling out at his friends as they went into the school. I woke up to this image and it brought back painfully how much I loved him, liked him and needed him – he was the centre of my world.
Unfortunately for my co-workers it also set the tone for the day. The self-talk that went through my head today was all negative. Nothing was good enough, right or made sense to me. It was a day where I should have worked in isolation, but instead had to interact at a level that was beyond my reach. Better to stay silent than say anything – which is exactly what I tried to do – put my head down and just get through. I just want this day over. How many times have I said that in the last 17 months. Far too many, too many days where I’d like to pull the bedsheets over my head and avoid everyone and everything.
It’s been almost a year and a half but that doesn’t make the hurt go away; it provides the time to compartmentalize, to package up the pain and hide it away so it is not bare and exposed, but it doesn’t go away. Like today, today it was in every thought I had. I saw no joy today, only sorrow.