On the Six Month Anniversary Since You Left

It's been six months ago today that Gary left. I still can't say that he's d**d - can't even think the word. Sometimes I can say to someone that he died, but usually I say he passed away - just as if he was on a raft or a boat and he floated by me and kept going. "Just passed away." Away to what I don't know, and I don't like that he didn't wait for me.
"I must be here for a reason", I sometimes say to myself. But I have no way of knowing if there's any truth to that at all. I've raised my kids, done a few good things for the world - planted some trees, made some excellent meals, created a little art with a lot of photos. I hope I've listened to my friends the way they would like to be heard. I've taken in some strays - both two and four-legged. And I hope I gave Gary the gift of my honest love and total respect the way he deserved and earned it.
When he asked me to marry him instead of "yes" or "no", I said "Oh, don't go there." Nice, huh? But he understood my resistance to marriage, especially to a man recently divorced that hadn't dated anyone else. I finally said yes 2 1/2 months later on Christmas morning 2005. We were married at sunrise, the first day of spring 2006 in a raging snowstorm, standing outside in a favorite spot. It was a Tuesday, I think. Unconventional? Maybe a little. He accepted me and my quirks.
My life is so different without him now. He was my lover, my best friend and my constant companion for six years. It doesn't sound like a long time, but it was a relationship that balanced my life. Unlike my first marriage, I got this one right. He called me his "goddess" and the love of his life. I thought we would grow old together. He had health issues, but he was so lively and smart and funny that it was easy to forget about mortality.
I miss him everyday. I know everyone here misses someone everyday and I wonder what real wisdom there is to be had from our losses. "Time heals all wounds?" - no it doesn't. I'm almost 50 and I haven't learned much, but I've learned that the deeper the hurt, the more likely it is to flare up in strange and unexpected ways. You can think you're much better and then the pain will strike when you least expect it.
I almost don't cry as much as six months ago, but it's a marginal difference. Do we all just go on because our species is hard-wired to do so? Or is there really something tangible to hold on to? Is there a reason to live through all the pain and tears and emptiness so big that it makes my gut hurt? When does the real healing kick in so that I feel like I want to go save the planet, or design the newest "it" thing, or just breath again without choking back tears?
I suffered from depression once before during my first marriage, and rightfully so. I earned it! I was very unhappy in a stale and non-supportive relationship. I got therapy and got divorced. I was "fixed." I was healthy, balanced and successfully single. I ruled my universe! I worked hard to be right in my own skin and then I found a man and a friend that made life exciting and interesting and much more comfortable. A kind and wonderful man that made me a better person than I was before. And I miss that man and that relationship that made my life whole and complete. So I have to ask - when will I feel like contributing to really living again? How is it possible to get from where I am to that accepting place?

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