January 13, 1996. It was a Saturday night. I was in Job's Daughters at the time, there was a formal event and I wore my red sequined dress. After the formal a friend of mine, her boyfriend and their friend, Scott, were meeting me to then go to a party. My friend had been wanting to set us up. I met them outside, and the second I saw Scott I knew. I knew I loved him and that we would be married. Our marriage was not perfect. But no matter what we always remembered January 13th as the day we met. As a special day.
So, yesterday came and went. No one to reminisce with. Not just me telling someone hey guess what today is? I miss that cozy togetherness of sharing memories of the moment we found each other. I mostly did okay. But today, today I felt it. That feeling that is both hollow and heavy at the same time. The feeling that I could cry at any second. I did survive the day because I know by now how to set my feelings aside (for the most part) and get through.
"Missing" him is not enough of a strong word for what this feels like. At least once a day I am still caught off guard by wanting to talk to him or thinking of him as if he is alive and snapping back to "he's dead". Dead. Gone. But, oh, how I long to hear his voice, tell him all the details of everything.
Sorry to keep going on with my sadness. In a way though I'm not sorry. This is my life. It's real and messy and sad at times - it is what it is. Right now I'm very sad. Tomorrow will be different. That's the other thing I've learned about grief. Just one day at a time. And when the day is overwhelming or too much just take it an hour at a time, a minute if need be.