Mahirap pala mawalan ng asawa.
The heavy physical feeling is still there. It hits the moment I wake up. Now it’s a mixture of extreme sadness & fear. Fear of what, I still have no idea. I dread waking up in the middle of the night bec of this.
They say focusing on the baby will lessen the pain. At first, it was actually the opposite. She reminded me so much of him. It got better after a couple of weeks when I allowed her to make me smile again.
Jim hasn’t visited me in my dreams. Maybe my subconscious doesn’t want to give me false hopes.
It’s still hard to attend to things by myself. I wish I can just call someone, anyone, to accompany me to certain things. Going alone just emphasizes his absence.
I still long to spend time with people who knew Jim — his family, his classmates, people he worked with.
A precious few have kept in touch. They took me out, let me talk, kept me company. I wonder if they knew how much they’ve done for me.
I’ve begun to reach out to other widows. “How long will I mourn this way?” Two years, they all said.
It’s still painful to see pictures of daughters with their fathers, or wives with their husbands.
The other week, I let myself cry. Really really cry. It was in the most embarrassing places — at the lobby of our condo. Jim would’ve been mortified. He used to chide me that I didn’t know how to cry.
Everyone tells me I need to be closer to God. I’ve always believed in him, even feared him … but I wonder what “close” means?
I developed a sudden love of the outdoors. I would sit in the park just to stare at my surroundings.
I stopped craving for good food. I can now last an entire day with the cheapest hamburger in Jollibee.
I treasure the few photos we have together. We were smiling so happily in each and everyone of them.
“Internet pioneer.” If he were alive, he would’ve blushed. I would’ve teased him, and he would’ve retorted something intellectual to cover his embarrassment.
I wished I just lost an internet pioneer. But I lost a most extraordinary husband. He was perfect in every way — he was so kind, so loving, so thoughtful.
He loved me even when it wasn’t easy to.
Seems like a cruel joke, to finally find someone you want to spend the rest of your life with, and not being able to.
I wish I could turn back the clock. I wish I could’ve done more. A lot more. I still punish myself for it. Is this a phase? Or something I will carry as long as I live?
I still whisper his name every chance I get.