Broken blisters

Today, I felt horrible. Incredibly empty on the inside. I don’t love who I am. I loved who I was. I don’t want this new life. I want my old life back. I want George back. But the only way I get him back is through old photos and memories. I have scars that you can’t see. Wounds and blisters that get so worn day-to-day, that they burst open and all the pain trickles through my body and through my eyes. My chest hurt today because I miss him so much. How am I supposed to overcome the impossible? There’s no bandage big enough to patch this bleeding heart. There’s no pain killer strong enough to numb me from this loss.

George, why didn’t you better prepare me for what was going to come?


About J.

Fitness professional, fitness & nutrition writer, widowed at 28. Writing about getting through grief through self-care, physical activity, and the ​constant feeling of being uncomfortable.
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