Last night you probably sensed I was struggling. I have reverted back to childhood sleeping with soft cuddly toys! I did get through the night with plenty of sleep, no drugs just a massive feeling of emptiness. Bedtime I think is worst and I don't mean missing the physical side of things. It's just that he isn't here.
When I woke this morning the empty space was still there. I want to wake up and find all this has been an awful nightmare. I want him to be telling me how much he adores me. I want us to be making plans together.
I got up, made myself some breakfast and with a heavy heart washed up yesterday's pots. That was a sign I wasn't good last night - normally I hate leaving pots. Now it just doesn't seem important. I put the radio on for noise and it was an Eliza Doolittle track - the last CD I bought him for Valentine's Day. I felt his arms around me as I washed up and the tears flowed.
Then I decided to tackle the printer! I got really cross about it yesterday as it would just not work. I deleted it from my PC. Unplugged it. Spoke nicely to it. Reinstalled it and Bingo! It works!
I have just spent some time writing a letter to some of my friends who do not know about Clive. I am feeling bad for letting these weeks go by. I have been a 'poor' friend in recent years. I admit I was besotted with Clive, addicted in fact. When I wasn't with him or my family I was working, leaving little time for anyone and anything else. They are all done now.
Next I have done something with a very sad acceptance. Just before Clive died we had booked another cruise for this September, this time to the Western Mediterranean. We were both so excited and were going to work our socks off to go. I had still wanted to go and take Lynn, his beloved sister. On our vision board he had asked me to write 'take Lynn on holiday'. I have also found a signed and sealed envelope from Clive to me which says 'to be opened on the balcony of our cabin on 3rd September 2011'. Initially I had taken this as a message from him that I was still to go. As reality now hits I appreciate that it could be two weeks of torment for me. Last year as I have said many times before our cruise was the perfect holiday. Perhaps to return to a ship so soon without him would just be too much and I would spend the whole time reminiscing.
At least the printer works to send them the letter!
On our balcony
So it's done. A little of me feels I have let him and us down. I suppose the best way forward is to plan for Lynn and I to be somewhere special that day and I shall open the letter then.
I am now going to meet Clive's surgeon who did his knee operation a few days before he died. I have no intention of finding fault or blame. I just want to talk to him.