Time has passed, wound still there

It's been a little while since I've written... I guess life has startled to settle in to a routine. Last week was the three month mark - it's hard to fathom how I've survived three months without him, but I have.

I've been going to a weekly suicide bereavement support group which has been great. It's helping me explore a lot of the thoughts and feelings that I've been struggling with.

And there's still a lot. If anyone happens to scratch the surface it's all there to come tumbling out ... Guilt, confusion, anger and more guilt. 

I've had a few visitors recently, including two of Dan's best friends and his sister. It's always so nice to spend time with people who love and miss him as much as I do. We talk about him and share happy stories but also try and help each other figure out what happened and cry together. 

After the head back home, interstate, the inevitable post-emotional-high hangover hits and that's always difficult. But the alternative is to push people away and shut myself off, and that's not appealing. 

I'm starting to make some decisions about my future, including a career change and a holiday with friends and my sister. I feel excited for these plans and look forward to brighter days, but it's with a heaviness in my heart that still wishes my future was with Dan.

Tonight I was sitting here alone watching tv, after cooking dinner for one and cleaning up after myself and I started thinking about how this is beginning to feel normal.  Then that got me worrying that my memory of him was fading at the edges, so I watched some wedding video and, sure as day, the pain came roaring back up to the surface. 

I'm told that this will happen forever. That sounds so difficult and such an unfair burden to carry around for the rest of my life. 

I don't want to think about his sadness, about the pain he must have been in. I want to focus on the happy memories; his cheeky grin and sparkling eyes; the way his face would soften when he'd look at me. 

I want to remember special moments, read the love notes he wrote me, re-live our courtship and 'in' jokes and shared secrets. But these happy moments always lead me back to what I didn't see ... How sick he was, how much pain he must have endured before it got too big a burden. 

I try and console myself by believing I'll see him again one day in heaven, but all I want to do is hold him... And I don't think we have arms in heaven :(