It has been two weeks and still half of me believes that he will come walking through the door, while the other half crumbles inward when I realize that he will never come walking through the door.
I remember when I was first married and referring to myself as a 'wife' was strange and new. It was a label that created joy and excitement at the prospect of all of the wonderful adventures to come. When someone would ask if I was married, I would nod 'yes' with a happy smile.
Now, 13 years later, I have to refer to myself with another strange and new label - 'widow'. It is a label that creates sadness and longing at the prospect of all the lonely years to come. Now, when someone asks if I am married, I nod 'yes' with a sad smile, because I am still married and want to be still married and refuse to give up being married.