There are good days and awful days. The good days are where I can sort of coast along in denial, or where I can stay busy reading or seeing friends. The awful days are, well, exactly that.
As soon as I woke up this morning, I started crying and pretty much didn't stop all day. Deep, wrenching sobs. I cried in the shower, in bed, on the phone, on the porch, in the car, on the floor. A lot of the time it hurts so much that I just want to scream at the universe. It's amazing how much emptiness can ache.
Somehow I got myself up for a short walk and then I took a nap.
Thank god for Scully. She follows me around the house and makes sure I'm never by myself.
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