Six fucking months since John died. I miss him so much that I cannot accurately find the words to describe it.
Its probably an understatement to say I am not doing so well today. The feelings of dread and depression have been slowly sneaking over me for a few days before this, but today it has hit me very hard.
I really cant believe its been 6 months. 6 months without seeing his face, hearing him speak (aside from those books that he recorded for the kids before he died...but they sound a little "off" from what I remember his voice being like....almost like listening to the voice of a ghost), hear him laugh, talk to him. Its still so surreal sometimes.
The pain still rips me apart. I'll have some periods where it wont be so bad, or even...alright. Then, like a freight train, some sort of "date" or "anniversary" of something comes along and just knocks you back down again.
The kids don't realize what day it is. In a lot of ways I am glad they are fairly insulated (most likely due to their age- its a double edged sword- they're saved a lot of hurt bc they're so young, but they're missing out on so much bc he died so young...) from all of these things. They don't remember that he died on a Thursday, so a Thursday is just another day for them. They don't remember that it was 1/31 when he passed and so they don't even connect that today is 7/31 and what it means. It helps that they don't have to suffer these days like I do, but at the same time...
I don't want to be suffering either.