It is a whole month since Mike passed away, nine days since his funeral. The pain of his loss seems sharper than ever. The adrenaline of the first few weeks has dried up and paralysis has set in. Every plant in the garden, every tin in the the pantry, the cups in the cupboard and stuff around the house all remind me he is no longer here. I have to wear dark glasses in the supermarket, as when I spot food he loved, the tears well up and trickle down my face. I can't bear to watch the TV programmes we once watched together and there seems to be very little else that is watchable.
People are trying so hard to be kind, I know they mean to try and help, but I don't want to move forward, not even one step. I'm not ready to walk the world alone, it is far too scary and dangerous without Mike. Time and time again I am asked by people if I have a plan, have I set myself little targets? For now just being alive is all I can manage, and some days even that is touch and go.
I am angry with the world, but unlike the character in After Life, you wouldn't know it. I keep my anger locked up inside, waiting until I can stand alone somewhere and scream. Why me? Why Us? Why Mike? There are so many bad people out there, why not them?
Tomorrow is / would have been our eighth wedding anniversary, I'm so ridiculously sad we didn't get longer. I want to celebrate the nearly eight years of marriage that we had, can I cheat and pretend we made it? Should I buy a bronze (the traditional gift for an eighth wedding anniversary), something that Mike would have loved, something that I can remember him by?
Alas no one can answer my questions, not unless they are a friend elsewhere. I was forced to switch off comments when I put on the tributes, some people have no respect for the dead.
