I’m realizing, it’s going to get harder before it gets better.

Right now, it just feels like she’s away on a trip. She’ll be back.

But at the same time, I know. There are too many reminders for me not to know.

Two weeks ago tonight, right about now, was the last time I spoke to her. She asked me if I wanted to go get something to eat. I said, “No. It’s late. I’m going to bed.” I think she said “good night” to me. I think those are the last words she ever said to me. I hate that I don’t remember better.

I’m going to my writing group tomorrow. I need a distraction. I need something of my old routine. But my old routine is just that, old. I’m struggling here. I never knew how hard it was to remember to breathe, to eat, to wake up.

This is going to get harder before is gets easier. I don’t know how to do this.

Image: yanoche via flickr