It is (would have been?) my seventh wedding anniversary today. I feel numb. I almost forgot about today being special at all. Then I got an email that reminded me of today's meaning. It stung...but was far away at the same time.
As I write this, the realization of today's meaning is finally setting in. Maybe on the side of depression. I don't know yet. I do know that it has been three years since he died. Three. Years.
I haven't done much in the past three years. I haven't actually made much money from my business. I have only lost friends, not gained any. My faith is a joke. My weight is extreme. My dog's training has fallen down.
What have I done? I got a dog. I am working on the weight. I actually got a business up and running (mostly running). I got some housework done. I have a garden. I wrote a book...sorta.
I guess that there are ups and downs to life. Most days it beats the alternative. Some days are harder than others. Some days are much harder than others.
Today started out as just another day. Another day to sit, watch the dog, watch Netflix, brush up on technical writing stuff, surf the web, and swim. Okay, I admit it, and Pokemon-ing. It ended up with me alternating staring off into space--numb--with crying, sometimes overlapping. It feels strange, yet the same.
And that whole last paragraph gets me teared up again. Dammit. I just need to keep myself busy. My near future involves listening to the dog snore, watching Netflix, and playing Pokemon Go from my chair. More walks will happen once my legs are back to being happy. Tomorrow hopefully. It has been a week of solid walks every day except when I swim.
And I am rambling again. Time to wrap this up. Moral of the story: some days are harder than others.
You are loved, my friend.
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