Today turned out to be my first true day on my own. Was supposed to go to my writing group this morning, but ate some Peruvian last night that totally didn’t agree with me. I’ll be off food for awhile now. So, missed that & had nothing else planned today. Did end up taking a drive. I think I’d intended to go somewhere, but once I got on the freeway I forgot where.

Four weeks ago today.

Just a heavy day. A hard day. All day I had to stop myself from replaying that day. I’d kill for my memory to be hazy on the details. Instead I remember what I last saw her wearing when she was alive. I remember which shampoo I used to wash my hair that morning. I remember the song that was playing as I parked the car outside. I remember which dog ran up to me first as I came in the door. I remember where I found her.

Silence is oppressive. All day I’ve had the TVs on in every room. Maybe I’ll get over this method of coping once I see the next electric bill. For now, I need the noise.

I could have called a friend to go out this evening, but I stopped myself. I feel like I have to get through the entire day & night on my own. I feel like I have to get through this day on my own.

It’s amazing how that day feels like yesterday, at most last week. Every second of it is still so vivid. But the weeks in between feel like years ago. How is that possible?

Image: catcetera via flickr