Four months since the funeral. Another month added to the count, it’s counting up, not down like when you’re counting to something fun. This definitely is counting up, to nothing ever fun.
All I can say is I’m still exhausted, all the time, I need naps all the time, don’t have time for them, but need them. I sleep fine at night, still I’m always exhausted. I’m not even working out, this constant exhausting is… exhausting!
I still can’t see where I’m going, everything is still in the air. The future will be what will be, I can’t even concentrate long enough to plan that out. I need to plan it out, I wan to plan it out, it’s how I feel comfortable, to have a plan, but I’m too exhausted, uncertain, and in ways defeated to do it.
Many times the thought “life sucks and then you die” come to my head, I used to say it when I was mad at something. But I know that our life didn’t suck, his life didn’t suck. We had a good life, we were happy, we were in love, we enjoyed spending time together, we still behaved like the little kids who fell in love so long ago. I not only told him I loved him every day, several times a day, but I showed him in so many ways every single day. Acts sometimes are more powerful than words, I made sure he knew how much I loved him and appreciated him. He was spoiled, I made sure of it.
So, life didn’t suck, not at all. It just ended way too early, that part really sucked.