A year ago I danced and cried on the beach- the beach where we exchanged our vows.
Lately I have been getting gut punches of grief.
I would not have imagined this level of disbelief would last this long (18+ months). Some widows I know said the second year was harder than the first. I would say that in some ways it is harder and in other ways it is not.
Every gut punch makes me want to vomit. Then I feel so, so alone. It takes a strength of will, but I choose to stay in it for as long as it needs to go on. I choose to not look away and every single time it passes. I am pretty certain it will come back again. But in that moment it passes and I feel alright. In the first year I wasn't sure if it would pass. In the second year I know it will.
It is in that place of nausea and loneliness that another door opens. Personality fades, need for validation vanishes, expectation on another disappears, and pure contentment with the unknown rises.
Grief is fucking hard. But it can be a portal into another way of existing, a way that the Soul longs for.
That is, if we don't turn away...