I pace back and forth, back and forth, and get nowhere. When I am feeling that I can “get past it,” it starts all over again. Then, I am left completely breathless. They say “Get past it”, “move on”, “feel better”, all jokes. It’s a cycle that, I hope to God, will stop, but it sure as hell feels infinite.

Learning to live without you has been like asking a fish to learn how to breathe oxygen. I drown a bit each day. I gasp for air. I beg to be returned to the ocean, to be anywhere that might mean I’m with you.