Weekends


Weekends have always been the time when I was painfully aware he wasn't here. Perhaps I should say most painfully aware, as in honestly, I am always aware he isn't here.


We used to fill our weekends with fun adventures, regardless of the weather, and made memories. Now, I do my best to keep myself occupied and avoid public busy places like the plague.


Public places can feel like a stab to the heart when the person you love has died. You're not in the couples club anymore.


You don't want to see other couples holding hands, looking happy, sharing those knowing glances, you're on the outside looking in with a magnifying glass highlighting your pain. It hurts.


I felt so aware of his absence from the moment I woke to the moment I fell asleep.


That was tough, and I think that was one of the hardest things to get my head around.


Nowadays, I just jam my weekends full of stuff, I do some voluntary work that keeps me occupied, I allow the sadness in, but I do my best to remember the good times, and fill that absence with the memories of those years we had together.


Despite my best efforts, there are days I just cry, because the sadness is too overwhelming.


Grief is so hard. I am many years into my journey now, and yes, it still hurts. I don't think it will ever stop. Grief is the price we pay for true love.

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