Am I meant to be okay? Because I’m not. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you in some way. I still cry every day, too. I honestly don’t know how I’m meant to do this, how I’m meant to keep existing with this constant pain of knowing you’re gone.
It’s sixteen weeks tomorrow. Sixteen weeks since you died, and with every day that passes, I’m further away from your existence. I hate time passing. I want to go back and stop you going away for the Easter weekend. It’s all too hard.
I have my beautiful niece and nephews, though, the gifts that you gave to us all before you knew you were doing it. Leaving a part of you behind for us to love when you were gone. Both the boy Ms look like you, and they have your smile…my smile, too. Little lady M looks like a miniature version of her mum, but she’s growing up so fast and I love her so much. We went and saw Black Widow and it was awesome, but I wish you could’ve been there.
It sucks not having you around, your missing presence is felt all the time by us all. Something will happen, and it’ll hit me like a tonne of bricks. I’m still existing, getting by, surviving. But it’s fucking hard. I still don’t know how I’m meant to go the entire rest of my life without you in it.
It’s farcical. Bizarre. That you should just be gone like that? It’s not right. I want to scream and wail and punch and kick things because it hurts so bad. The pain isn’t getting better, I’m just getting better at keeping the door closed when other people are around.
I hate everything about this and I miss you.