Forty-five Days

We have forty-five days until the year ends, and the next chapter begins. I joke often telling people "Just wait season two starts soon". Knowing deep down, it's accurate.

Forty-five days left to remind me that I've been living this nightmare for 22 months. Twenty-two months without my love. Twenty-two months of thinking about the "what-if's", 22 months of no new memories, twenty-two months of figuring it out on my own, 22 months of bad decision making, twenty-two months of visits, 22 months of crying myself to sleep at night, and twenty-two months of missing him.

I want nothing more than to wake up from this nightmare, realizing I might never. While it's easy for some people to just move on and act like this situation doesn't exist, I can't. I know I'm EXTRA most days. My emotions are all over the place, and I realize it's easier for some people to ignore, then to support me. I get it, and I'm not mad. I don't expect everyone to put their life on hold on account of me.

I'm a sentimental woman, a romantic, I think. I cherish the small things, the memories, and the adventures. John is the opposite. For the last two years I've been responsible for John's personal affairs. Hoping most of you can figure out what I mean.

John's been telling me for a year to get rid of certain things "do this" "do that", and again I often ignored thinking "I can do it all".

A week ago, I was contacted by a friend of his explaining a situation to me and wanting to know if I could help. I knew I had to let go, but deep down I didn't want to. I agreed and started to plan/prepare for the future.

I always thought I was doing the right thing by holding on to it for other reasons, but this month when I realized I'd no longer have access to it, is when it really hit me. It's my safe place. It's the place I went when I knew he wasn't coming home. I'd stop in weekly just to look around, each room holding a different memory. Those memories flashing as I stood there dreaming of him being next to me.

I have thirteen days left with the one place him and I spent most of our time and I'm broken. I feel as if I'm losing him all over again and it kills me. The memories shared, good and bad will be distant moving forward. I'll have nothing to remind me of him, or what we shared. It's like the wound that was starting to heal has been reinjured and is unrepairable.

I don't expect people to understand, and I realize how crazy I sound.