Just breathe

I have a Smirnoff screwdriver at my elbow and I’m attempting to do yoga. It might not be the most logical combination but my world has been turned upside down so I don’t even try to make sense. When this year began I sat down and wrote out my typical list of resolutions that included some home renovation projects, running goals, self-improvement stuff and all the other things I aspire to each year. Since then I’ve thrown out that whole list and narrowed it down to one:
2017 is all about survival. Last year I lived our greatest love story with my husband and this year I lived a tragedy. When January first rolled around I never imagined that a few short months later I would watch the love of my life take his final breaths and see his strong heart beating for the last time. It’s taken me three weeks to fully believe he is no longer in this world with me and that no amount of longing, wishing, hoping or dreaming will make him come back to me. I’ve wanted to scream his name over and over until I’m empty, but I only remain full. Full of an ocean of grief and loss and loneliness. Full of the greatest sorrow I’ve ever known. I still breathe even though he no longer does. It’s a travesty. When the surgeon came out to the waiting room and explained that my husband was on a ventilator, just a shell holding a beating heart, I felt as if I were dying with him. I remember placing my palm on his chest and feeling the steady rhythm of his heart but knowing that he was gone.
Three weeks later and I sit on my living room floor listening to The Greatest by Sia and drinking alone. I imagined my love and I would grow old together and have years of adventures ahead of us, not an abbreviated love story that ended at the best part. I had to plan my darling’s funeral and see my beautiful husband laid out in a casket, his strong hands still and lifeless. Those hands held me so gently and with such love, how could they be so cold now? None of this makes any sense. I no longer plan and dream for the future. I just live each day as it comes. I get up and I keep going and complete necessary tasks and do the things that need to be done. I quit my job and cleaned out my house. It took two weeks to work up the nerve to move back into our home and even now it feels so empty without my love here. I wish I had just one more chance to tell him how much I love him and how much he meant to me. I’m not sure he knew how much I needed him. I’m not sure I knew how much I needed him.
When we met 11 years ago I didn’t foresee the heartache ahead, but I’ve come to believe that we were meant to be together. We were meant to love and grow and learn together. I stayed by his side through all our struggles and he remained beside mine. We became the greatest friends and lovers and I’m grateful I was given a gift that some live their whole life and never receive. Maybe we loved each other too much for this world. Though I remain behind I long for him and hope for a day when we are together again. In the mean time I’ll have to learn to live again. One day at a time.


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