Becoming tangled in routines is very easy and convenient to do, especially when the pain that’s chasing me is so immense and crippling. Daily routines for some become habit, but for widows it’s a way of survival. On the widow message boards I read numbers of other women who find comfort in these mundane routes and tasks. I am no different. I click autopilot and fly until I crash into a wall.
To run away from the pain and horrific loneliness that perpetually haunts me. When there’s a breach in the fragile ecosystem, the pain slithers quickly inside and once burrowed in my heart it does its due course through mind and eventually takes over my body. Often times, to my chagrin, leaves me scratching my head wondering what the hell went wrong? Today, I was numb for much of the day. My little widow ecosystem had been compromised and for most the day I just was there. Empty inside, and waiting for the pain to catch up with me and rip me in half.
Around 8p tonight, as daylight was being swallow by dusk, the pain consumed me and my heart imploded. It’s so easy to fall in love, but to repair the loss of a loved one is impossible. Especially when losing the person who made me feel the most alive. I wish I could have more time with George, but now I rely on memories to bring me solace. But those memories that bring me joy also have a heavy dose of anguish as well. Life can be so cruel.