I stayed home this morning - the heat has given me a fibro flare. We all seem to be triggered by either heat or cold, and my trigger is definitely heat. So my solution was to spend a good bit of the day on the heating pad. Sounds nuts, but I do feel better.
I miss you - you may have noticed. But I'm still having trouble getting my head around the fact that this is permanent. It's not that I think you're coming home someday. It's just that I can't think about the future yet, and that permanence belongs to the future. When I do think about it everything in me feels this strong, wrenching pain. And I know what Hamlet meant about tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow. It looks unbearable.
My heart breaks for the dog. Every time I open the closet door he comes running. He goes straight to your Nikes, sticks his head in one of them, and takes a long, deep sniff, wagging his tail as hard as he can. He so loves to smell you. He doesn't expect you any more when he hears your car coming - he goes to the door to meet Jen. He's happy to see her, but not like he was when it was you.
Nothing is like it was when it was you. I'm not, either. Please come and get me soon.