The whole world seems empty

"When one person is missing, the whole world seems empty."
This was in a book I read to the kids tonight, and it hit me like a truck. This is the feeling. This is what goes through my head every minute of every day. Life is empty without Mike. Don't get me wrong, I am making a point to live life to the fullest now, because this has reminded me of how special and precious our lives are. But my life is still empty. Everything seems to have less meaning and be so much more temporary. Yes, I have our kids to keep me going and living. Yes, I have our families and friends around us keeping us afloat. Yes, I go out and have fun with lots of people and celebrate life the only way I know how - by living it. Our daily lives go on, but he's not here to share anything with. Not here for a quick text with an 'I love you' in the middle of the day. Not here to call with something funny that happened at work. Not here to sit down with at the end of the day and unwind, drink a beer, and relax together - reminding each other of how lucky we are and what good lives we really do have. And how much we appreciate each other. Not even here to fight with. The person I shared my world with is gone. My world is empty right now.
For some reason the past couple of weeks have been particularly hard. Work has been busy. I've needed more help with the kids. It's been stressful. And the one person who I would come home to at the end of the day and talk to about all this is simply not here anymore. The person who supported me all these years, and who gave such great advice like "fuck all of them, who needs them!" isn't here to bring me back down to Earth with a big laugh and a reminder that I really shouldn't give so much of a shit all the time. The person who put up with me, not matter how crazy/bitchy/ridiculous. So I sit here and I write. I've even started bringing work home with me, to give me something to do and make me feel like I'm doing something constructive rather than sitting here doing nothing with no one to talk to (Mike would be so pissed at me!). I've got a couple of books to keep me company. But my world is empty. How did I not know? How was I so unaware of how important this person really was to me? I mean, I knew I loved him and I wanted to spend my life with him - but our marriage wasn't perfect and there were definitely some times we had wondered if maybe we'd be better off apart. I was so completely unaware of how deep my love for him ran. That without him my world would be empty. And it took this, of all things, to make me see it. And he's not even here now for me to tell him of this amazing revelation I've had. Because I know he'd laugh and say "I know. I told you so, Ab."

The happiest people are often the saddest

If I can say one thing about the past (almost) 5 months, is that it's absolutely exhausting putting on a happy face all day. But I cannot walk around all day moping about, unhappy and acting like others need to feel sad or badly for me. Quite the opposite - I don't want anyone to feel that way. My pain and suffering is mine to bear, not anyone else's. So I require myself to put on a happy face, smile through the pain, and push forward day to day. When Mike's life ended, ours did not. It often feels like it did. But it didn't, and we have to go on without him.
When someone asks me how I'm doing, I'm often tempted to say 'do you want the long or the short answer'. The short answer is I'm doing OK. Some days are good, some bad, but it's one day at a time and I guess things could be a lot worse, honestly. I have to keep reminding myself of that. It could be worse. Many can't imagine what that might be - but I remind myself daily of how many things in my life that are GOOD. It's the only way you can get through a tragedy like this. I have 2 healthy kids who love me. I have a roof over our heads and I have a good job that I love. I have amazing friends and family surrounding me. I have plenty of things in life to be happy and to smile about. So I'm doing OK. That's the short answer.
The long answer would go something like this. I suck. And not just any kind of 'oh I had a bad day' kind of suck - I mean I realllllly suck. I want to tear my own hair out, drive my car off a cliff, and scream at the top of my lungs until I have no voice left. I have 2 kids who constantly remind me of my dead husband when I look at them. Who ask for their dad and tell me they miss him or want him daily. By the end of the day I'm so exhausted of dealing with everything from the kids, to the dog, to my job, to finances, to home issues that I want to fall over and go to sleep and never wake up... and then I remember the 5 loads of laundry and grocery shopping that I forgot to do (hey kids, you're alright with pizza again, right? Yeah.) I live each day having regret upon regret of things I never got to say or do with the man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. When something happens in my day, I go to call Mike to tell him about it - and a split second later have to remind myself that he's gone. I have a house I can't keep clean, a 'to do' list that gets longer by the minute, and kitchen counters that look like a hurricane came through. And the person who should be here for all this - to help, or even just sympathize... or laugh about it- is simply gone. And of course everyone says 'don't worry about this stuff' and that's very easy to say. But when these things bother you, it's hard (if not impossible) to ignore. It's hard to convince myself that I really don't care about the piles of laundry that aren't done, or are sitting there clean but not put away. It's stressful to not have my partner in crime here to help me with all these things. I sit alone at night and I don't want to do any of these things that need to be done. I want a moment of peace and clarity.

So if you ask me how I am, and I smile and say 'OK'... rest assured, you are getting the short answer. And that's alright, because I don't want or need to saddle everyone with the long answer. If you are married or have a long term partner, imagine them just being gone one day. Just for a second - not having them there any longer for the love, support and reliance that you come to count on them for. And now it's just you. If you can imagine that for one second, then you can imagine what my days are like now. But as I said above, life does go on. And we all have choices about how we go on. I have my moments when I dwell on the stress of being a single parent and of missing Mike. But mostly I choose to go forward with life and continue to enjoy it for the wild, crazy, unpredictable ride that it is - while always keeping Mike close to my heart.