This one bothers me. Soon it will be two years and I know people will think I should be OK now.
But I'm not.
And I am afraid I never will be.
I am some new version of me.
A version that goes around and gets things done and is responsible and functions. But the spark has gone out. There is a void inside that cannot be filled. No matter what I do, where I go, what I buy - nothing makes life worth living. Before, the simplest thing was fun. Everything was good. I was innately happy every single day. At the core of my being was the fact that I was married to John and he and I had a life together. It didn't matter what we did. It could be eating sandwiches in front of the TV at night - it didn't matter. It was good. Our life was complete. We had each other and we loved each other completely. That's all we wanted.
Now it's gone. And it's never ever going to be again. The only thing I look forward to is being with John again in the next life.
Nothing else matters.
So today marks 23 months since John slipped away. But I'm 23 months closer to being with him again.