It’s been a week, and what a long sad week it has been. You have been bawling uncontrollably, emotions flying crazily everywhere at the mere thought and mention of her. It’s not the best time to be wearing mascara.
You still find yourself staring at her favorite spots in the house: in the yard near the gate where she people-watched with you usually on Sunday late afternoons; in the living room near the television where she kept you company as you lounged on the couch doing nothing; in the dining room where she always bugged you to share your food with her. You faintly smile when you recall how she was always hungry.
Mornings are different now. Gone are the days when she was always the first to greet you upon waking up. Afternoons and evenings are not the same either. She was always the first to welcome you home from work, always so cheerfully like you’re the best thing she’s seen all day, and the last you saw before you turned in at night.
You notice how the house now feels too spacious, too quiet. There’s an unquestionable feeling that something’s lacking. Home now feels sad. Home now feels incomplete.
A week has passed, but tears still fall. These tears fall now because she is missed and longed for. You’d like to expect — hope that you’ll see her again, but you know that’s not possible right now, at least not in this life.
So this is how it is – – – when you lose something/one you’ve loved and nurtured so much to death, it feels like you have a hole in your heart that keeps tugging at every memory you’ve shared. It’s painful, and the pain is in your heart.
And just now you realize, your days will never be the same without her.
Life will never be the same.