I'm Ashamed to Admit

That it hurts to see other people happy.

One of my best friends found out today that she's going to be a mom soon. She has only been married for 6 weeks. They have only been together for over a month before they got married.

I'm happy for her. But I also cried a lot from all the sadness and envy that I felt upon hearing the news.

I'll be 30 in 2 days, my first birthday without my beloved husband. I decided to celebrate it alone. I want to honor my grief on this day, a day that will remind me of all the beautiful things that I had that are now all gone.

This is my new normal. There will no longer be midnight birthday songs for me. I won't have anyone to make plans with for the day itself. I will no longer be receiving personalized gifts from the one I love the most. It will just be a day that will change my age, nothing more.

I wanted to tell somebody about what I was feeling. I browsed through a list of contacts and friendly names. In the end I sent my thoughts to my late husband. To his social media account that has not had any activity in months.

I told him everything. I sent chunks after chunks of texts on how everything sucks without him. I told him how sad I was and how I hate that he isn't here to see me freak out about the future and what it holds. I told him that I was so afraid of being alone and that it hurts. I told him everything hurt.

I told him that when I lost him, I lost a part of my heart that celebrates other people's happiness. I told him that I was losing compassion and disregarding more and more people and the trivial things that they whine about. I understand how perspective changes everything, I know that we all process grief differently. I just can't show compassion and empathy as much as I want to. I pick people to help, people to listen to (usually confined to a very limited few). I feel like I have to grow my heart back before I start feeling again.

I'm tired. I am done. I just want to get rid of the pain and longing and sadness but I can't.

I am not praying to God. Not yet. I just want to be alone with my thoughts.

I want to pretend that he's still here. That we will be seeing each other in a few. I want to live in this dream. I want to be where he is. For a few days, I'd like to believe that he never left.