I knew this was going to be tough but I was really not prepared for how bloody awful it is. Before Pete died I tried, I really tried to prepare. I read the posts on the bereaved spouses group. I tried so hard to be ready for the worst when it came, but I now realise that you simply cannot imagine what it is going to be like. The absolute, awful finality of it. For the first few days I don't think it sunk in, despite me crying about it daily for the previous 3 months. I was in kind of daze, doing whatever needed to be done, and waiting for everything to click back to normal. To some extent I'm still doing that; I feel that if I get past the funeral, somehow it will all go back to being alright. Except when I think about it, I know it won't. Our friends and family will all go back home, and then I will really be on my own. No escape. Pete will never come home, I will carry on being alone, and I will carry on living in this grey fog. I just cannot enjoy anything at the moment, everything is just passing time and I honestly cannot see a time when it will ever get better. Everything I love and enjoy is so bound up with him. Food, going out, the garden, dogs, music, holidays. Everything I think of I just feel desolate at the idea of not sharing with him.
I keep trying to think of the happy single person I was before we got together, but she is long gone. I miss him so much. I want to be strong, like he was, but it just isn't there. The only thing keeping me going is our dogs. I couldn't bear for them to go to a rescue centre, as they all came from one. They are my family.
I just can't believe that all I have left of Pete is some photos. Never enough,he did not like having his picture taken. Please come home babe, I don't think I can make it without you.
