I've run out of words to describe how much I miss my husband and how little investment I have in this new life I'm necessarily creating without him.
I'd like to cultivate the mind-set of Walter Mitty, that well-known dreamer. At any given time during the day or night, I wish I could just let my mind wander to a scenario where I can pretend that Chuck is still with me here. Just drift away on those thoughts....and live there.
At which point I'd likely be locked up in the psych ward and heavily medicated. Our culture is very unforgiving of zoning out without medicalizing the situation. I wonder what the medical term is for I'mlonlierthanI'veeverbeeninmylifeEVERandImissmyhusbandsomuchIcan'tstandit?
I'd so love to be in a world where Chuck is alive with me. The fact that he isn't, that he and I are separated from one another forever, makes my breath catch and my pulse race and my heart pound. Which is, interestingly enough, the way I'd feel whenever he walked into a room and I'd feel his presence. Or when he'd put his hand behind my neck and pull me in for a knockmysocksoff kiss.
Being in love and being in grief produces the same physical symptoms? Now there's a new thought that just popped into my head. I wonder if any studies have been done about this possible phenomena?
Oh my dear husband, my heart, my lover, my travel buddy, I miss you.