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2016-02-10 - 9:00 p.m. - I am dying of grief. I know that is an exaggeration, but...I'm not sure sometimes. I hurt inside my chest. It's not a heart attack...but it is as if I'm broken in there. It's a fresh, new, hard punch to the heart every time it hits home to me that my one love is never, ever coming back. Mike is gone. He is gone. He is never, ever coming back. Today I went to the coroner's office and heard the details of my husband's death. He was anxious and sweating and laboring for breath. He was afraid. He was afraid. It was a short period of time that he spent afraid before he died. Things moved rather quickly. My sister says there are endorphins that kick in when things are going terribly wrong or traumatic...but just to know he spent any time at all, a single moment, afraid...it tears me apart. My Mike. I could just wail and howl like an animal with this pain inside me. And when I can get far enough away from the house that my daughter can't hear me, I do. The pain is staggering. I miss him so much. I loved him so much. He taught me what it is to be really, truly loved and I'll never be the same. I pick up his things and cry. I smell his things and cry. I noted the small size of the pot I cooked food in tonight and I cried. I begged God to lessen this pain, quickly, please, God, HELP. I don't want to disrespect him by getting over it, I just want to feel not so much like I am dying of grief. I'm dying of grief.
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