I miss the evenings with him. I miss the *couple-dom* that we had. The easy pattern of being. The snuggles on the couch, comfortable enough to go watch tv or play on the computer or perhaps play card games together.
I miss his presence in my daily life.
I invite people over to spend time here – and it’s not the same. There is an awkwardness because we don’t have 14 years of shared living space together.
The loneliness is hard to explain. Inviting another friend over helps for a bit, but it’s a poor substitute for what I really want – him.
On a website I frequent – there was a reference to “skin hunger” – the desire to be touched. A bit part of it is that. Touch me. Hold me. Love me. But it won’t be the same – the desire is for HIM, not just anyone… and while I think that I want random contact – it’s empty contact, because it’s not him (I’m referring to the foot rub I got from a friend recently)
I can’t reach out and touch his neck. I can’t reach out to touch his leg. I can’t reach out and kiss him. I can’t snuggle up to him in bed. I will never again lay down at night and feel him tuck himself up against me.
I don’t want to face that. I don’t want to face that I am a widow – and I am alone.
The psychologist today says it takes on average 3-5 years to recover from grief. I’ve heard 2-3 years from other sources. What I know is that for the past few weeks – the numbness is fading and the sharp sadness is coming back, but not in an overwhelming way – more of a *it’s ok to cry and be sad* way… Instead of the painful vomit of grief, its slow and steady and washes over me like a gentle wave… only to leave me struggling again to find some balance.
I miss him, so very much.