Day 376

The anniversary of his passing came along and hit me like a million anvils being dropped on me all at once. I thought I would be fine, but starting at about 3 days before, I was just a mess. A mess of memories. I knew every "last time"... the last time we got Starbucks, the last time he kissed me, the last nap we took. It was excruciating to relive every happy memory that lead up to the worst night of my life. It didn't help that my therapist moved out of state in November, that I was off my meds and that I hadn't been to widow group since December. It doesn't help that he still feels so much a part of my life. That I look at his face in pictures and think he MUST still be real. I uploaded hundreds of pictures of him to flickr. That was like being cut up by razor blades and dunked in lemon juice. It was every happy reminder of everything i no longer have. Everything I'm missing, on a screen in front of me. I spent the weekend curled up in a ball on my bed. To say i was ill-equipped to handle the anniversary is an understatement. Is anyone ever well-equipped? And now the e-mails have started rolling in, reminding me that our wedding anniversary is two weeks away. I just can't win, it seems.