So today concludes the third year, 36th month, and 1,095th day that I’ve been stuck here reminiscing alone about Bryan and he’s been gone living it up in [insert personal belief about positive afterlife here]. I’ve been subconsciously anxious about this day for over a month, yet it’s simultaneously snuck up on me. I haven’t made any elaborate plans, but I’m going to let myself just be and not set any expectations for how I “should” feel. I reread my post from the 2 year anniversary, and while much if it still rings true, I can say I’m slightly relieved to see some growth. I wholeheartedly still oscillate between feeling like it just happened and thinking of it as a faint memory or dream that I can’t piece together. I’ve continued my business of forging the new normal, even if it’s been kicking and screaming.
Bryan has almost officially been gone for as long as we were together. I must admit that’s a scary feeling and makes me feel further away from him than ever. We just didn’t have enough time together. With each anniversary that passes, it seems I face a new, unforeseen challenge. That’s what make grief a real bitch — it never goes away, just continuously morphs into different heart breakers at different points in your life.
Very scientific graph showing my “positive growth”
On a positive note, Dr. F says I’ve come leaps and bounds from this time last year (okay maybe that’s an exaggeration, but she has noted growth). I’ve started using “possibly” instead of “never” when I think of my future and while I can’t really envision what that future is, the fact that I can accept there is a future is a positive trend, so I’ve been told. I can’t speak highly enough of store-bought serotonin; it really closes the loop on the hole grief creates. I’m in no way out of the woods, and wouldn’t classify myself as a “happy” person, but anything that moves the needle is good, right? RIGHT?!
The prevailing and lingering feeling now spawned from Bryan’s absence is loneliness. I don’t need anyone, but I certainly miss having that person that’s got your back and enhances your life. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop feeling that way. Anyway, I know Bryan’s loved ones will be remembering him and honoring his memory this day as they do many days. And to you, Bryan: the hole you have left is greater than you will ever know. It will never be filled, but with each passing day and year I will try and use the things you taught and gave me to make it a little smaller. Love you, mean it.
the wittiest widow 