Considering everything, I'm doing really well. I'm working and actually enjoying my new responsibilities. I'm exercising, losing weight, and toning up. I'm making plans with friends and keeping busy. Things could be a lot worse. That doesn't mean, though, that things are good.
I miss Brian every day. His absence is always felt. I feel like I have lost some internal force of gravity. He kept me grounded. He held me together. He made me whole. Without him, I'm functioning, but I feel disjointed, dismembered. I feel like parts of me are floating in various directions, and his force field is no longer here to hold it all together.
On an ok day I go to work, come home, take care of our dog and cat, exercise, shower, eat dinner, relax and go to bed. It's a full day, and I manage. But on those days when things aren't so ok - when I'm stressed, anxious, angry, or in pain - on those days I come home to an empty house and the emptiness strangles me. There is nobody that I can call that knows me like he did. There is nobody that can hug me, say the perfect Brian thing to make it ok, nobody so central to my being who can make that bad day less important just by breathing, smiling, being there.
In so many ways, things are so much better than they were even a few months ago, but that doesn't mean that things are good. That doesn't mean that I'm not still mourning. That doesn't mean that the pain isn't still overwhelming. It just means that I'm learning to live with it better.
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