I only say "was horrible" because I don't know if "s*cked" will get through the filter.

It's four weeks ago today that Dan died. I spent this morning again watching the clock and reliving the last day with him, and fell into depression around 9:30 after he was "gone" and all I had to remember was making phone calls and trying to figure out what I was supposed to do with the rest of my life.

I managed to shake that off for a little while - I don't know if it's avoidance or acceptance that lets me sometimes go "I can't change the past, all I can do is move on into the future", but it worked for a bit. Then I got stressed out at work, and I looked over at his picture on my desk and had the instant reaction of "It'll be okay, putting up with all this is worth it becuase I get to go home to him at the end of it." Except I don't anymore... which makes me wonder if putting up with all the stress at work is worth it. One thing he left me with is options, for which I am incredibly grateful. I just need to make sure that the choices I make are the right ones, the smart ones, the lasting ones. Not the "it sounds good at the moment" ones. "Eyes on the prize, babe." He said that to me not that long ago, when we were talking about opening our own business in a few years, once we got our debts paid off. What's my prize now? Do I still want the same things that we did, or would they just be a reminder that I'm having to do them without him? I don't know.

I went out into my car around 3 and cried for a while, until I felt like I could work again. I'm getting better at that, but it's also getting harder to stop crying. I still have the fear that I'll start crying and not be able to stop. I was okay at my desk for a while again until I started working on a database problem with someone else at the end of the day, and as I was walking down the hall I thought about the many times I would come home from work and tell Dan what I learned about MS Access that day. We'd sit in the den at our computers and talk, and he'd tell me about the problems he was having with his Oracle databases, and I'd talk about my problems at work, and somehow everything would be okay when we were done. And I don't have that anymore. That shattered me - I practically ran out to my car and bawled again for I don't know how long until I felt like I was safe to drive. "Gut-shot" was the word that came to mind, and I really didn't think I was going to be able to stop crying.

I remember looking at the radio and really wanting to hear "Imagine" (for a number of reasons it's "his" song), asking for a sign that he was still there, trying to remember to breathe. As I pulled out of the parking garage, I surfed through the presets on my car radio and found "Imagine" just starting. That helped a lot, enough that I was able to drive home feeling more "melancholy" than "devastated".

I'm supposed to go out to dinner with friends after work tomorrow, so that should be good. At least it will help me get my mind off of things for a couple of hours, I hope.

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