Grief, continued.

OK, I think I'm starting to get it now. About grief, I mean. It's not something that goes away, but something you learn to live with. A lot of people told me this, but I didn't understand it right away.

Now that it's been almost 7 months, I'm starting to feel the severity it of it now, with all these things that happen that I want to tell her about, and all these funny or silly memories I want to remind her about, that I can no longer tell her again, and I feel the gravity of them all building up in my head.

I realized that when Mike got back from his tour, although I was so beyond thrilled to have him back home (and I still very much am), it doesn't make the sadness disappear. It's still there, and it always will be there--I just need to get used to that being there and work around it. A short video I just watched illustrated this idea in a pretty simple way that helped me understand this, too.

You know, I was thinking--about Mike coming home and me still being sad, I mean. I think it's like..well, maybe something like this: imagine your leg is torn open in an accident and you're in horrible pain and even though you got your antibiotics and your stitches and your cast or whatever, you're still sitting there in agonizing pain wondering when you'll feel better. I mean, your leg was ripped apart--you feel like crap. Maybe some awesome things happen while you're nursing your destructed leg--you get visits from significant others, and family, and friends, or maybe you get to see a show or movie you've been wanting to see or even attend some kind of cool concert. You can be happy and enjoy that you get these happy things happening too, but it doesn't make your mangled, wounded leg feel any better. That bitter, burning, incomprehensibly nasty feeling is going to linger no matter what kind of activities you engage in, no matter who your company may be.