It’s been (exactly) 12 weeks – I still think of you every day. But at least now I don’t burst into tears every time. I only cry myself to sleep once or twice a week now – the sadness just hits me out of nowhere and all I can do is hold my ground and let the grief rip through me. Body shaking, tears pouring, snot dripping, gasping for air. The phantom pain in my chest still hurts and throbs throughout my body, keeping its firm grip around my heart and my lungs and my throat. The relief of your painful death is long gone and in its place is immeasurable sadness.
Without you. And yet, with you. You’re there pumping through my blood – all your pain, all your love, your sorrow, your joy, your strength still lives in me. I close my eyes to listen for your laugh. Oh how I wish I had a recording of it. I’m afraid that if I can’t hear your laugh I’ll lose you forever. So I sit and listen and remember. I can hear it, it’s distant and somewhat muffled but with eager ears I can still hear it.