I didn’t wash my hair.
I didn’t put makeup on.
I wore glasses because when I cry that hard my eyes get puffy and I can’t wear contacts.
I felt unbearable pain.
Like longer he’s dead the harder life gets.
Or at least that’s how it seemed.
I wanted to sleep all day.
I felt alone with my pain.
And when I wasn’t distracted I was unbearably sad.
I felt all the pain, all the suffering of a dead spouse.
A dead spouse.
A dead man.
A dead best friend.
In a world of people who are so alarmingly alive.
I felt so devastated I was single.
I felt so sure I will be alone forever.
I felt so convinced my suffering would never let up.
I don’t know.