It's so much of nothing, when you're expecting something, that you are all but deafened.
The silence is deafening.
My skin is crawling and I have to do something.
The walls are closing in on me.
This day is dragging on and on.
Will it ever end?
My skin doesn’t even feel right.
I am alone.
It is monotonous.
It is terrifying and I don’t know what to do with myself.
The kids are cleaned and occupied. The house is clean. Dogs fed and walked. Three home cooked meals done and dishes washed. Laundry folded and put away. Even dessert is in the oven.
What now? Nothing-- there is nothing.
Nothing but the missing.
The missing of everything he is:, his arms, his smell, his voice, his smile, and his presence.
I am alone.
I talk on the phone but what is there to say? How do you explain this?
“Yeah, everything is fine here.”
I look at the computer but he isn’t there either. I can’t fill this void, this emptiness. I need something to do. I need to feel something other then this impending silence.
“Why will today not end?”
Every minute feels like an hour; every hour like an eternity. I put on my “I’m fine” face and move through the day. I see people that are really fine and wonder if we will ever be that way again. I feel dark and empty. I feel a loss- a loss of time, a loss of patience, a loss of hope, loss of me, a loss of him and a loss of us.
I feel closed off and in limbo, always waiting for him.
Waiting to be us for any amount of time. I am dreading the night where his absences will be so evident that I won’t be able to hide from it. I will lie on only half the bed and wish for his snores. I will reach for him and wish him goodnight even if it will never reach his ears. I will cry.
This will pass.
Tomorrow will be different and then I will be able to breathe.
I will find something to fill that day and the one after.
They won’t feel as long or as overwhelming, but I dread these days.
These forever days.