Lost in My Loss

I initially decided that the next few weeks of my life didn’t belong in My Mauritian Garden which was, and will hopefully once more become, a blog full of fun, laughter, and lightness.

So I thought about starting a temporary blog, where writing about my feelings in this time of flux would help me come to terms with Alf’s death.

It was essentially to be a place where I could talk through my feelings and thoughts when I had to; a place where I could talk to Alf without seeming like a crazy woman; a place where family and friends could be with me when they couldn’t be here physically; and a place where people I have never even met could share their thoughts.

But most importantly, a place where perhaps I could heal and find some peace.

Then I changed my mind.

Although I wrote all the posts, this blog was about our lives together, and Alf had input in many of the posts. Whether I listened to him or nor was another matter.

Anyway, this difficult period is still part of our lives, so if you’re just interested in gardening, check back in a few weeks.

For now, this is about me…

I’m trying to get on with my life – I’m accepting invitations from friends, I’m doing all my usual things, I’m getting things organised, and I’m getting out and about (though mostly, I just want to stay home).

I’m even thinking about new things that I might do.

But I don’t feel as though I’m moving towards anything – I feel like I’m doing things for the sake of it, and just filling in time.

What do I plan towards now? Everything – holidays, where to go for lunch, what house repairs were a priority – were discussed and planned together, with a mutual purpose in mind.

I can’t seem to work out the point of it all now.

Everything I do now is without Alf.

Today I cried in the supermarket, because I knew he wasn’t in another aisle – he’s gone forever.

I feel so sad and so alone without Alf – I could be surrounded by a thousand loving arms and I’d still feel the same.

I’ll never laugh with him again, never shout at him, tease him, discover anything with him, nothing. The wonderful life we shared is no more.

No matter what I do in the future will never include him, and therefore will never live up to what we had together.

It really is true that you don’t know what you have until you lose it – you can appreciate it at every turn, but once it’s gone, you realise just how huge it was.

The only positive I can find, is that although it happened suddenly, I have no regrets – I always told him that I love him, he always told me the same; when we fought, we never held grudges, and always forgave each other; there was nothing left unsaid, good or bad.

I don’t feel depressed, just unbearably sad.

I miss him so badly – he was a huge part of my life – there were very few times that we weren’t together, and at home, we were always chatting about life, the universe, and everything.

We really enjoyed each other’s company, and could sit for hours together, either talking or doing our own thing knowing the other person was right there.

We both always said that we were so glad to have found each other, and that we made each other happy, despite the difficult times.

Together, we were always able to overcome whatever hurdles life threw at us, and come out of it better people.

We complemented each other perfectly, and together, we could conquer the world.

Now, if I were handed the world on a platter, I wouldn’t know what to do with it.

I’m very strong, and I know that I can cope with this, but no amount of strength can take away the hurt I feel inside at the moment, nor the sense of being lost without him.

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