It happened

What day is today? Where am I? Is this really happening?

He died on December 19th. At home, while I watched. So much to process there. My counselor and a grief specialist say that it was trauma watching him die. It sure feels like it.

It's hard to move past that day mentally. I find myself retracing it over and over in my head because it was such a blur and in the end it happened so fast.

Since he died, grief has been so much different than I expected. Right now I feel numb. I wake up in the morning and at some point, something reminds me again that he's gone. Mentally, I re-wrap my head around that. But the emotions? They always hit sometime later. Well, not the first few days - those days it felt like I woke up crying and cried until there wasn't a tear left in my body. But today is January... 11 (I had to check again) and I'm here, writing, feeling totally numb. In 8 more days it will be a month since I last gave him a kiss (aside from his cold body at the viewing), held his hand, got a big, soft hug, heard him use one of my pet names, or could imagine - even for a second - that we had a future together in this life.

I miss his soft hugs. Why is everyone around me so skinny and bony? His hugs were perfect; warm, soft, filled my arms, made me feel safe and at home.