When It Just Hits You

Sometimes, when my day is going along "normally" - including my new norm associating with others who have lost, taking the dogs out myself, living in a place that is not my true home - I suddenly am slammed down to earth with the thought

Ryan is gone. He is dead.

I am not running around actively denying to people that I will see Ryan again, that I will get a text or a phone call or he will wake up in bed next to me (or I'll be woken up from him snoring while snuggled into the back of my neck...) I know, ok? My head knows that he's gone - it's not like a secret or any possibility. Sure, sometimes I still have the reaction to call him, to walk into a room and look for him. These are .001 seconds in time which used to cause break downs and now I chastise myself and shake it off.

The sobering moments are the ones where your heart just figured out the finality of what happened. 

I will move back to going through the motions of the day, taking care of what needs to be done and staying busy when I can. I will still spend time lying in bed, sometimes with sometimes without tears, but most definitely in sorrow and loneliness. There are no triggers for these events and their frequency is unpredictable but without a doubt there is no way to describe the feeling when you're smacked with that reality that he is completely and utterly gone.