In the moment, this moment, every moment

Right now my way or living through this is not to chain myself to the treadmill of going over and over around up and down everything that we said or didn't say and over analysing. My every urge is to curl up into a little ball rolled tight and hard in some corner somewhere and JUST not get up. Maybe, if I did that I would eventually sleep and when I wake everything I had known as normal would be, again, normal for me.

Simply, it isn't normal.
Configuration has changed.
This is not what I want, nor what I expected.

But I believe with all my heart that all things work together for good.
I believe I can survive this although it feels like I will not.

I did not realise the pain of this losing would be a very real physical hurt as well as the quiet blow torching of my heart and soul.(that I expected).

Little unexpected memories rise up and torment me all through each day; his smile, the way he walks as I watch him ( and how he hated my watching him making him all self conscious). I remember sitting watching him absorbed in some knowledge he was drinking in while I drank deep down into my soul like a breath - him. The way he places steepled fingers against his mouth; his slight almost lisp. Things I have taken for granted in my everyday now bring back the thoughts and I find myself, somewhere reduced to unexpected tears.

I can function. because I must.
Others rely on me so I cannot let the ball drop and will not, in fact.
This loss is a tangible thing; I will be walking somewhere intent on where I am going and I lose impetus. I somehow need to find steel within to keep going. A gust of wind will cause me to stagger as it blows past, and I feel I am surrounded by dense fog while everything and everyone disappears into a sepia background. That is quite a feat for peak hour Sydney, I assure you.

One step.
Two.

Light seems to come from all directions startling me.
Blinding me.
I have moments when I sit, stunned, watching as life goes on all around me yet here I am stopped in the middle of it all.
In a daze I wander the hallway at home. I start out going somewhere for a reason but after two or three steps I am just wandering and I have lost the original purpose.

I have started walking, again. I walk and pace ( without direction or clear purpose and path) until the pain outside and in my body equals the pain of my heart.

What do I do?
Breathe in, breathe out.
Let go.
How do I get through another day.

This weekend will be somehow worse as the kids are not here.
The days and night yawn emptily before me and I already fear losing myself within them.

But you know, even when he was here and he still came home, for many hours each day and each weekend, I lived literally alone waiting for him.
Waiting for him to come home.
And when he was home, waiting for him to want to be with me.

The yearning, the wanting and the waiting were pillars of my existence.
And in truth I was so tired of waiting, and wanting.

Please do not expect sense in these posts as I know there is none.
I just cannot keep this inside for fear it breaks me.