On the Morning of the 6 month marker, of Mitchell’s death, I woke up, tears fell for an hour, as I scrolled through facebook’s “on this day”, showered and got ready for work.
I made a post on Facebook, about how I was feeling, and a lot of what I miss about Mitch.
I didn’t write a blog, or really talk to very many people. I didn’t tell Megan what the day was, until we were having dinner.
I mostly kept to myself, and tried not to project my sadness onto anyone else.
Everyone says it gets easier, as time passes by.
Everyone grieves differently.
It’s not easier. Each time I wake up, and Mitch isn’t here, it hurts just a little bit more. Each time some man, that I don’t know, hits on me, like I’m some “single chick” it kind of makes me angry.
I have “ignored” so many people on messenger, “restricted” so many people on Facebook as well.
On the 6 month-marker, a man tried to tell me he “wanted to know me”. I also posted about it on Facebook. He claimed he wanted to know me, yet, he didn’t take a second to scroll through my Facebook profile, and see that I just made a big, long, emotional post about how much I miss my deceased husband, and realize how inappropriate his messages were. I see through the typed words.
I don’t feel bad about not wanted to know people. I don’t feel bad about blocking old acquaintances, or ignoring morons on Facebook.
One thing I realized recently, is that I feel alone, a lot more than I realized.
I asked a ton of people to go out with me, Friday night, and so many people just said no, or couldn’t go (kids, other plans, etc). It’s okay. I understand if you don’t want to or can’t go out with me. But here’s where the loneliness sets in. If Mitch was here, he would have gone with me, no questions. (it would have been his idea to go, even) I would not have gone to a concert alone, and we would have had an amazing time. Sure, I had fun. I was surrounded by people, and made “friends”. No. I was surrounded by people, and made more acquaintances. Sure it was fun, but my heart was still broken, and empty. As I danced and listened to the songs Mitch so often played for me, my heart was tearing open, shredding apart, again.
It’s things like going out alone, or figuring out who will take Megan home from a ball game, if I get called into work, that make me feel alone.
It’s little things that set me off into a crying mess. I feel like I cry MORE now, than I did in the beginning. Like it’s more REAL now, than it was. Maybe it’s because school is getting ready to start, or something? I don’t know. I don’t care why. It just IS. This is the way it is, now.
I know, I have Megan, and that’s a MARVELOUS thing. I’m not alone when I’m with her, but I cannot take her everywhere with me.
Maybe now, I’ve hit the point that everyone has warned me about. The point where everyone believes I am fine, and fall away.
The scariest part about being a widow, is feeling alone.
I miss him, so so so much. I miss his presence. I am so angry and sad that he is gone. This is a nightmare. He was such a beautiful soul. We needed him, more, here.