It's been raining in North Carolina for about two weeks now. I don't know if it's the weather or just the phase of grief that I'm in, but I'm really freaking depressed today.
Sundays have really gotten the best of me this fall. Chris loved football, and we devotedly watched the NFL games on TV. Today was "the big game" for us each season, the Panthers vs. Buccaneers. Even though he became a North Carolinian in 2003, Chris maintained his loyalty to the Bucs, who hailed from his parents home state of Florida. Like usual for the past few years, the Bucs are terrible. And I had no one to gloat over it with. Even watching the game put a pall of gloom over the household today. His absence was almost palpable in this quiet, quiet house.
In my quest to constantly stay busy, I baked a cake, attempted to make Chris's spaghetti and meatballs recipe (failed miserably) cleaned my kitchen, played football with Gabriel, and worked out for over an hour. I am physically exhausted, but still cannot stay busy enough to keep the sad thoughts away.
I miss him so much. I've gotten into a steady routine these days, but the loneliness wraps itself around me like a blanket at all times. I don't know what I'm looking for to help....I'm literally surrounded by people 24/7, so it's not literal loneliness, but just that yearning for adult partnership.
I hate Sundays. And not even because it means the end of another weekend and the preparation for another 5 days of getting up at ungodly hours. I miss our routine. I miss the rhythm of life we'd developed and perfected over the years. I miss my past life, the one I didn't choose to let go of.
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