Soon it will be four years since my life imploded. My old life doesn’t even feel real anymore. I have more or less accepted that the life I had is over. But, I still miss the comforts of my former life. I miss feeling content. I miss feeling like everything was good in the world. I miss the peaceful, easy feeling I had when I was his girl. I miss being loved in such a fulsome way. I miss being adored. I miss all that I had with him. I miss the life I never got to share with him. This is my daily struggle. The missing and the mourning of what never was.
Nowadays, I’m not carefree like I was before.
I am still spontaneous and fun; but, my eyes don’t sparkle like they used to when I laugh.
I remain a joyful person, but I am not joy filled anymore. (There is a difference.)
I do have a strong sense of wild abandon in me, but something inside me remains off kilter.
Way, way off.
I admit, I still have a genuine love of life and adventure – even without him.
But, the truth is, I love it all a tinge less.
I love everything in my life a little less enthusiastically now.
No matter how hard I try, I just can’t find the unbridled joy I used to have when he was alive.
Now, for this reason, I am endlessly restless.
No matter where I am, or what I do, a part of me feels like it is elsewhere…
I am continually seeking a way to soothe my feelings of disconnect and discontent.
I stare off into the beyond a lot.
Maybe I am searching for him…
Or, more likely, these days, I am searching for me.
Specifically, the intangible pieces of me that died when Mike died.
I have stopped searching for Mike because I know that I can search for the rest of my life and I will not find him.
He is not findable.
He is gone.
Hopefully, I will have more luck in my search for me.
Over the years, I have completed a lot of self reflection; and despite my study, I am still not whole.
I wonder if I ever will be again.
I doubt it.
I don’t think you can possibly return to a whole state when you are separated from someone you love so deeply.
Somethings are not fixable.
There is no returning to the state of being I once inhabited.
I think, at best, I will rebuilt a remarkable life; but while I live this beautiful new life, I know that a part of me will always be searching for the woman I used to be. I am on the look out for the woman who was filled with excitement about the future she was going to spend with Mike. I miss this person I once was. I miss her so very much. Lately, my grief has evolved into a grief of my own. Now, I spend a great deal of time mourning the woman I used to be; and, concurrently, I mourn for the woman I could have been if he did not die so unexpectedly.
I miss both these women. Both the woman I knew and loved; and, the woman I never got to know because Mike’s life was cut short. These days, the woman I used to be feels like a fictional character to me. At best, she is someone I recognize from my past; but, don’t intimately know her anymore. Like Mike, she is gone.
And, how I miss knowing her and being her. I mourn the loss of her. The truth is, I miss my old life a lot. It is not just Mike I miss. It is the me I used to be that I miss too. I have spent most of year three grieving the loss of myself. I recognize that when I buried Mike, I also laid to rest who I was and who I had the potential to be when he was alive. This isn’t to say I lost all potential. I didn’t. But, the woman I would have been if he didn’t die – she is gone. I have spent the last 3.8 years laying her to rest and resurrecting a new person from the ashes of who I used to be.