3 years. 9 months. 9 days. 6 hours. 45 minutes.
That’s how long it’s been since I’ve been Mark’s wife.
That’s how long it’s been since I became Mark’s widow.
I still love him and miss him with every breath.
He’s still the one I want to share the stuff with.
I still say good-night to him every night.
I still cry over him.
Almost 4 years. And I still can’t believe I’m never going to see his face, kiss him, hug him, or touch him again.
4 years and I’m still surprised when he’s not here. Even though he’s never BEEN here, he’s never BEEN where I am. I have NO memory of him in this room, in this house, in this town.
There’s a whole slew of friends who never met him. And only know him through what I’ve told them.
I think, some days, that hurts the most. That I’ll never share Mark with my new friends. That I can never introduce them to him. That people only ever know me as this single mom.
That no one saw me as Mark’s wife, only his widow.
Miss you Mark.