A journey and a half...

There are many nights when I am wide awake. I have no idea why I am awake, but again it is as though I am waiting. I know I will not hear Luke come home. I know I will not see him walk through our front door. I know that I am not going to lay against his chest with his arms round me. I know that Luke is not coming home ever again. But I am sat here waiting.

I could understand being awake if I had done nothing but today I have been out and about. I have called companies to sort things and I have returned my wedding dress to the dress shop. I have even been to the supermarket! I feel physically exhausted and mentally exhausted but I'm wide awake! How does that work? 

Going back to work is drawing closer and it's very scary! I think starting work again will be a big milestone that draws a line under this method of coping and I will have to find a whole new way all over again. It's as though life allows me to get use to one way of living and then it quickly changes and everything shifts again. I am discovering that the journey of grief forces you to learn to be adaptable. Yet, being adaptable is the last thing you want to do. What you want to do is cling as hard as you can to everything you knew and to everything that should be and everything that was. But the journey does not allow that to happen and I find myself looking down because looking back hurts and looking forwards is impossible. 

I feel as though tomorrow will be a sit it out day. I have run out of strength and energy. I think I used all of my energy up today being all 'happy and smiley' out and about and during the Tesco run. That was hard. I had to actually go down the meat aisle because that's where the bloody yorkshire puds are kept! Luckily I could stand with my back to the meat. ARGH! I have become a crazy person!

I find that Luke is always at the forefront of my mind, which is where he should be. There is never a moment when I'm not thinking about him and imagining what could have been if he was here. Many people are able to distract themselves but I have not found a way to do this. I will be having a conversation with someone and realise that I've stopped paying attention at some point and drifted towards thoughts of Luke. I figured I must look very blank faced most of the time! Good luck at getting an answer from me if you've asked me a question! I think my fall back response is to just smile and nod.

I have no idea how I am suppose to get through the rest of these days without you Luke. I do not know how many more mornings I can survive waking up without you there with me. I do not know how life without you is suppose to work. I look at your picture and I just can't comprehend what has happened. You did not deserve to die. You didn't deserve to be gone. I miss you every second of every day and you are my everything. I wish you were back here again with me and knowing that you will never be here again hurts. It's a pain that no one can imagine and one that I can not describe. It just hurts constantly with no break and I am exhausted.

What did we do to deserve this? 

A room full of colours...

Every day is the same and yet every day is different. What I can do one day, may become the hardest challenge of the next. It is true what people say and the illustrations of grief. It certainly is not a straight line. As time moves forward, living without Luke does not get easier. Some days are better to manage than others but this does not mean the next will be the same. In fact if I've had a day where I've thought, "I CAN do this!" The next day rolls up, smacks me in the face and laughs before leaving me in a crippled mess on the bedroom floor; or bathroom floor or even in the shower. In actual fact it's not really fussed where it leaves me, just providing it floors me then I guess it thinks it's done its job. So far though it hasn't left me this way in public, so that's something to be grateful for I suppose. I've always managed to make it back to our home.

But grief is not straight forward and it doesn't get easier or better simply because time has moved forwards. Grief is a knotted mess of hair from a brush. It is a child's scribble on a piece of paper as they learn to grasp a pen. It is a thousand colours of paint thrown into a small room, with the colours splashing on the floors, walls and ceilings. Whatever isn't touched by the paint initially, soon gets covered as the paints runs and flows and drips across the surface, leaving its mark. Grief is a mess. It is a mess that I now need to clean up, or at least begin to clean up.

I am considering going back to work, although this is a normality that scares the shit out of me. Losing Luke is not normal and to carry on life in the normal way feels wrong in every way shape and form. To move back in to a normal routine (even a new routine) feels wrong. But I know it needs to be done. I know that I can't hide away and sit the days out for the rest of my life. Don't get me wrong. I want to. I really want to hide away and just wake up with Luke, where this moment in my life without Luke is nothing but a distant memory. But life does not work this way, so I need to suck it up, put on my game face and do 'normal' things. I need to cover the feelings that are inside and just do the everyday routines without thinking too much, almost like auto pilot. If I don't move into auto pilot again, then I'm afraid that I'll never move again.

I was thinking today about being told to, "do something." I thought about what I have done since Luke left me. And actually I have done something every single day. Admittedly, for some days my 'something' was to simply breathe and to not give up (lol 'simply'). My 'something' was to walk away from the packet of sleeping pills, which could so easily stop all of this and would mean I wouldn't have to wake up one more day without Luke. Some days my 'something' was to just make it to the evening. On these days, this 'something' was the hardest most challenging thing to do and it hurt. It hurt with every breath and felt like a huge crushing weight slammed on top of me. But it was a 'something' that I succeeded to do. To an outsider, it may have seemed like I was doing nothing but moping in our home because my 'something' was not what they expected or anything they could see. But if they could see past the outside, they would have seen that it's on these days that I was doing the biggest 'something' of all; I was choosing to live without Luke.

On the more manageable days I have organised paperwork and sorted finances, I have made arrangements with friends. I have left the house. I have interacted with people. On the better days I have even interacted with strangers! (This does not happen often anymore. Strangers stress me out because they are so clueless to what is happening. You don't realise how painful a simple, friendly question can be when your whole world has fallen apart, "So are you doing anything good with your day?" "How's your week been?" "Is this a gift for a loved one?"). I now try to avoid these interactions as best I can.

I have done lots of 'somethings'. It's just that you can't see many of these 'somethings' and I admit that is partly because I don't let you see it. But please don't think I'm just moping in the home doing nothing when I don't come out or if I haven't been productive in the way you want or expect. I am doing the best that I can because I have never been in this situation before. I'm pretty much making this shit up each day and learning from each encounter and moment as I go along. If you think you can do a better job...please take my shoes and walk in them to show me how it's done.

Dealing with grief is hard enough, but having to come to terms with the death of an entire future and shared life together, well...it just adds a whole new array of colours to the room of paint. It's all layered. The paint dries and you think you've just about come to terms with this new image and then another pot gets thrown and all that you knew is not what is at all. I find myself thinking, I should be Luke's wife. I should be Mrs Perryman. But I'm not. I'm just me. Luke and I should be doing husband and wife things and laughing at each other (and having loads of sex!) But we're not. This year should have been so different. But it isn't. This is what it is. SHIT.

My friends are still amazing in all of this. It's funny who I have grown to trust and who I don't want to speak to. It's as though I've formed an invisible bubble around me, as though this is somehow going to protect me from more hurt. But the thing with bubbles is that they are so easy to burst. Then it's just a sticky mess.

I feel like I am constantly waiting. I don't know what I'm waiting for but I am waiting. It's an odd feeling to be waiting for nothing. It's unpleasant and makes me feel anxious and sick. The only way I can describe it is when you're waiting for that very important phone call to say if you have the job, or waiting to go into a very important exam or interview, or waiting for the phone call that will tell you if your Dad survived major surgery or not, or sitting on the oncology ward with the oncologist and your Dad, about to learn whether the chemo was successful in some way or not. It's like the feeling you get when receiving a call telling you that your whole world has broken. I have this waiting feeling. It is always there and I don't know what my body thinks it is waiting for, because Luke is not coming home. This moment is not going to change. So I don't know what I am waiting for or why I am waiting. But I am.

I feel like I have rambled off the point of this blog...a room full of colours that needs to be cleaned up. My first step is to return to work one way or another. The next step is to finally wash the bed sheets. "Wash the bed sheets?" I hear you ask. Yes. I have managed to remove the sheets where I saw Luke for the final time but they have not been washed. Actually I am lying to you all. I haven't removed all the bedding. Luke's pillows are exactly as he left them. I can't make that step yet but the duvet and bottom sheet have been removed. I just have to make it to the washing machine now. I keep telling myself that they are just sheets and Luke would not be so sentimental. But this was the last time I saw him. This was the last time we told each other we loved one another. I know it sounds crazy but I feel as though I'm washing part of him away. A totally crazy thought I know. I'm not an insane person. I am completely capable of rationalising my behaviour but it doesn't stop this feeling.

I think the next step is to change something that I have chosen to change. I need to change something that I am choosing to change because I want to and not because I have been forced into the change. I am not sure what that will be yet. I will keep you posted. But I do need to regain control of this moment. I feel completely lost and alone and I need to regain control.

Luke is not here. Everything I do reminds me of this fact. I am so incredibly tired that each day becomes more of a challenge than the last. I have a feeling that tomorrow will be one of my 'something' days. I wish so much and so hard that Luke was home. That this was all just one shit dream and that I won't need to clean up a mess because our lives will be a beautiful canvas of colour and fun because Luke is here and all is as it should be...come home please Luke.

Who Am I?

The title sounds like one of those riddles where you give the person lots of clues and they have to work out who or what you are. I feel like a riddle at the moment. Nothing makes sense to me and this week has been hard and yet this week is no different to last. Today was no different to yesterday or the day before.

I have been thinking about what is hard about all of this, apart from the obvious that Luke has gone and is never coming home again. I think it is the thought of the present day and the future without Luke. It is working out who I am now and where I fit into life and society. Surprisingly, it is not as simple as you might think.

When you lose your forever man, you can't fit back into the same space as before. Because you're the wrong shape. You can try but it will feel uncomfortable and wrong. And I believe it is a meant to feel wrong because you can't go back to what was. Because what was is not what is now. I have to find a new place to fit. I have to work out who I am now.

I know that I am described as a widow but what really is a widow and where do they fit? When strangers talk to me and Luke comes up in conversation, being a widow creates some very bizarre reactions and I find myself having to reassure the other person. It's a very weird experience, which I am sure I will suffer many times. But these experiences don't really answer what I am.

I know what I am not. I am not a wife (despite desperately wanting to be Luke's Mrs). If I was a wife this would be a very different blog and Luke and I would be living happily ever after.

I am not technically engaged because Luke has gone and so he is not here to fulfill that promise. But at the same time I love knowing I am Luke's fiance and he chose me.

I am not a girlfriend or in a relationship because Luke isn't here to share life with. He isn't here for me to buy gifts for or to cuddle or kiss. A relationship takes two people and now there is only one.

But I am also not single. I made a promise to Luke and he is my forever man and no one could ever come anywhere near as close to being what Luke is to me. Also if I was single I would be out and about dating and pulling. I would know how to work being single. But being single is a horrible thought and Luke is the man that I want. My heart is intertwined with his (yeah I know very soppy and soft but it's true). So I don't feel single and I don't want to be single.

But that leaves the question, "What am I?" If I am not any of these things then what am I? It's like when your forever man dies you are left in a dark void of no man's land. You are no longer part of a couple or a team. I am also not commitment free because my feelings haven't altered just because our circumstance has. I am Luke's and he was mine. Death hasn't stopped this from being true.

So this makes this the hardest question ever. I am not any of these things and yet strangely I am all of them. I hope that as the days and weeks and then months progress I will work out who I am and where I fit. Because right now I don't belong anywhere and it's very unnerving. I feel very out of control and I hate this feeling.

My Perryman

So many people are moving on from you Luke. So many people have returned to their lives and continued on. Time has apparently moved on too. But I'm still here and still waiting for you to come home from your night shift. For me time has stood still and hasn't moved passed the day you left. But I know time has moved on because of all the events that have happened in between. But it feels like only yesterday that we snuggled each other and said good bye before I left for work. How are we nearly at three months without you?

I have been told that I need to get up and do something or go for a walk because I can't mope around all day as it just gives me time to think of you. So I can't just stay in all the time. It's alright and easy for them to say that because they have gotten over you dying and they have moved on and they are now able to 'get on' with life and 'do something'. But doing something is fucking hard. Because everything I do reminds me that you are not here to share the experience with. You are not here to hold my hand as we walk down the street. You are not here to grab a coffee with. There is just an empty space where you should be. There is an empty place where my hand should be fitted in yours, with our footsteps in sync. You are not here and doing something won't change this. It just illuminates the fact you're missing.

It was the realisation that most people will be able to move past this moment in their life and are able to live with you as a distant memory. Seeing friends move on is like losing a piece of you all over again. It's losing that life that we shared. I know that that life is already lost and has already been stolen but sometimes I like to pretend if only for a second that everything is just as it should be. Us against the world. But everything is falling apart. I am falling apart Perryman, and I don't do falling apart!

I went away this boxing day until 29th December. I came home and there was water pouring out of our home. Luckily our neighbours are amazing and helped me loads. But the house is now a little bit broken too, but luckily it's all fixable. I wish you were fixable. I wish I could fix you and bring you home. 

Today is a cold but sunny day and I know you would be out on your motorbike. It looks like a good day for biking. I miss the sound of your bike coming onto the driveway in the early hours of the morning after you'd been on night shift. You would ride because driving back at that time of night is boring. I used to hear you coming as soon as you entered onto our estate and then rolled up onto the drive. I miss hearing the thump of your boots on the driveway as you opened the garage door and the squeak of your boots as you walked through the door and walked through to the kitchen to see what goodies I'd left you. I always listened out for you before falling into a proper sleep, just to make sure you were home safe. Except you never came home safely that night. That thought makes it hard for me to breathe and I have to change my thought quickly. But you never came home and you will never come home to me again.

This grieving stuff is hard. You have to muddle through on your own for 6 months before Drs will offer any help or way of surviving this. What I would like is a manual; when you feel like this... you should do this...kind of thing. But I'm just making it up as I go along. It has not been easier this week. In fact every day has been a crap day. Every day this year has been hard and to survive it, I've just waited the day out. It's worked so far. 

I have been blessed with friends coming to cook for me, to make sure I eat something. Your friends have been phenomenal. I have a great friend who comes over anytime to keep me company when the silence gets too much. She has been a real support to me. I have another friend who was great and would also come over at any time in the evening so that I wasn't alone. I have a wonderful friend who messages me most days just so I know I'm not alone. This makes me smile. I have amazing friends who have booked me onto snowboarding with them on the off chance that I might like to go. I have friends who invite me round for dinner or invite me out of the house. These friends are like gold dust and their loving thoughtfulness at this time is huge. It is love like this that can be shown in such a dark time that makes me thankful and restores a small piece of my faith in God. Don't get me wrong. I still think God is a few choice words that I can't write here but there is a small glimmer of hope out there.

I have a whole mountain of jobs to do but I can't focus on them. I just think of you and it hurts. Just breathing is a challenge right now. This week everything is harder and I don't understand why. I think I might just crawl back under my duvet and sit this week out.

I want you here so much. I want you here to hold me and to tell me that everything will be OK. I want you to tell me that you love me and that you are forever mine. It is hard to grasp the concept that I will never hear you speak these words again. I love you Perryman...a little bit...A LOT! 

P.S. I best go do something and not mope around (add sarcastic tone with twitching eye look).

Surviving a wedding with a broken heart.

I remember a day very clearly in my mind. I was at my older brother's house and it was October 24th 2009. I was sat on the spare bed when my Dad phoned me and told me on the phone that he had been to the doctors and they had found something on his lungs, but they were hoping it was just an infection. I remember thinking that it would be OK. I remember thinking that this stuff doesn't happen to us. The day my Dad got the news about his cancer (mesothelioma) I was at university on one of my final placements. I was on my way to the library and it was dark. Dad called me and told me. I had never heard my Dad cry until that moment.

The next 2 and a half years were a constant battle. Dad had treatment but it wasn't doing anything. We tried as best we could to continue with our lives and to do the things we always wanted to do. My Dad fought hard. During this time I graduated from uni and became a teacher. My Dad was very proud. As was my Mum. My brothers were both married and bought their own homes. And I was the kinda rogue of the family, as I hadn't settled despite my desire to find a guy who would love me the way I deserved. There were quite a few knob-heads on this journey! My Dad watched as I dated endless numbers of guys, often disapproving of most of them! None of which went anywhere. 

But on the 24th July 2011 my life changed course forever. I met Luke Perryman and from the moment I saw him I thought, "This is the man I want to marry." Of course I didn't tell him this. You can't let all the crazy out the bag at once and this particular thought did not need to be said out loud for years! I remember walking across to him as he sat on the bench in the beer garden. He had just bought himself a pint. We always laughed at the fact he did a double take at me. We spent the whole day talking and laughing. I even ended up back at his, although he was gutted it didn't lead to where he wanted it to. 

The following day we met up again and he asked me to be his girlfriend. He later admitted it was because he didn't want anyone else to have me. I remember laying on his chest and thinking that I wanted to be in this place for the rest of my life. The rest of my life. 

Just before our one year anniversary, Luke was sent away to help with the Olympics down in London. During this time, my Dad died. Even now there aren't any words to describe the moment when we had to say good bye to my Dad. Luke was amazing. He made things OK. He was there for me and just being with him and laying with him offered comfort. When my Dad died, I realised that I would never be walked down the aisle by my Dad. No girl should have to live with that. 

After Dad died though, we all thought, if we can get through this then we can survive anything. Because nothing can be as bad as losing your Dad. At least that's what I stupidly thought. We all fought through the next year and Luke and I went from adventure to adventure. Everyday we laughed. and enjoyed being with each other. 

On the 11th August 2013, whilst out in Jamaica, Luke proposed to me and made me the happiest girl alive. I couldn't wait to be Mrs Perryman and be his wifey! We booked our wedding as soon as we were home and started to plan it. We were so excited and my family and I were happy because we had begun to see a light at the end of what had been a very dark tunnel after Dad. 

On 28th June 2014, Luke and I completed the buying of our house! 2014 was going to be the year when things were going to go right. This was the year that was going to be good.  

But on the 15th October 2014 I realised that we are not in control of the lives we must live. Luke was killed in an accident. And our entire world came crashing down around me. All of our promises and dreams died on that day. The next couple of months were spent dismantling our wedding and saying good bye to Luke. I had to take apart our dream of being husband and wife, all on my own. Because Luke was no longer here to help. 

Trying to survive the death of Luke is a challenge in itself but doing this while your wedding day draws closer is beyond words at the moment. I knew that I couldn't just sit the day out. I wanted to sit it out. If I'm honest I want to sit out every day for the rest of my life but that's an entirely different story to write. I knew that if I sat our wedding day out then for the rest of my life for all the years to come, the 23rd December would always be a day of dread and anxiety. I don't want what should be an amazing day to become a day of dread that I hate. 

So I chose to have our wedding rings blessed on this day. This day was going to have something positive about it, even if it took all of my energy and strength to do it. And trust me...it took everything I had. I chose to have my family and close friends with me, as well as Luke's close friends too. I thought it was important to have them there, as their support has been phenomenal. I'm not sure I would have gotten through these past few weeks without them or my family and friends. 

The day itself was a mixture. Some parts were similar to what should have been our wedding day. But other things were completely different because this day was certainly not a wedding.  I wasn't going to bother with my hair or make up because I couldn't stand the thought of sitting in the hairdressers thinking all the time of what should be happening if Luke was still here. But an amazing friend offered to do my hair and make up at my house. I'm glad she did. I chose to have my hair different to my wedding hair though. Not really sure why but I felt it needed to be different. It was important to me that this day was positive and not to mimic what should have been. 

The ring blessing was arranged for the same time that our wedding should have been. This is because it gave me something completely different to focus on. If I hadn't done this, then I would have been clock watching..constantly thinking...

I would be getting in the car now.

I would be arriving at the church.

I wold be walking down the aisle to Luke.

I would be standing with Luke saying our vows.

We would be married.

But I set it for the same time, so that I couldn't clock watch. 

I chose to wear my wedding dress. It was the right choice for me. I don't know why I chose to wear it or even if people thought I'd gone crazy. But wearing it brought me a weird calm comfort. So I wore it. The blessing took place in the house and it was good. It was all the people who love Luke and myself all being together in one place. It gave me strength to get through that day. My Mum was fantastic and sharing the day with her was amazing.

After a while, and after the bbq the family started to leave and the drinking began. The day went fairly quickly and I'm glad. It is by far one of the hardest days I will ever live without Luke. But I couldn't have survived the day if I had done nothing. Our wedding day was definitely not a day to "sit out". I am sure there will be plenty of other days that I will sit out, but not that day. Not our day.

The only advice I can give to surviving your wedding day, when you are missing the most important part and person, is to do something that YOU want to do. There is no right or wrong. The people who truly care and love you, will support you no matter what. For me, doing something positive on this day kept me going until the following morning. I miss Luke every second of every day and I will love him until the day I die. I just wish our 'forever' was a lot longer. xxx

Tomorrow is just another day...

It is now 2015 and apparently the start of a new year. Everyone has returned to their own lives and carried on as normal. Many people told me, "You just have to get past your wedding date," or "Just get Christmas and New Year out of the way and you'll feel better." I felt like screaming... Why will I feel better? Does a new year bring Luke back? Does a new year take away this pain and anxiety? Does a new year mean I'll stop thinking of Luke and the entire life and future we have lost? Will a new year magically make everything return to how it was? Will the new year stop me from crying when I clean my teeth because I look at his toothbrush; untouched and unused? Will the new year stop me from having breathing issues every time I walk down the meat aisle and have to look at packs of chicken that Luke would've put into our trolley, which I now have no use for? Or when I pass by his other favourite foods that I no longer want to buy? No it will not. Maybe this is true for people who were not close with Luke. Maybe this is true for work colleagues, who did not have Luke in their lives every second of everyday. Maybe this is true for people who had served with him briefly or only met him a few times. Maybe this is true for people who are now able to carry on with the same future they had always planned to have because the loss of Luke has no effect on their future. Maybe this is true for people who did not have future plans with Luke and had not seen him as an important part in their future lives.

But for people who loved Luke and had their lives integrated with Luke. This is certainly not true. I know you should not judge another person's grief as we all react differently, but don't tell me that things will be better just because you feel better about this situation. Don't tell me that I should return to my old routine because you have returned to yours. My life will never return to an old routine because Luke was my routine and he was my life and everything. He was the reason I laughed and the reason I smiled and the reason I lived. Every moment when Luke was alive I thought of him and all our promises and things we had done and will do and I looked forward to them with butterflies in my tummy and excitement in my entire body. Life with Luke was amazing. Every second of it.

But now he is gone and I think of all the things we had planned; except they now feel empty and numb and daunting. And nobody gets it. Nobody understands. They just think I should go back to work or should do something to focus my mind elsewhere. But how can my mind possibly focus on anything? This feeling isn't something I can just switch on and off. It is something that I can hide and mask for a short while but it takes every single bit of self control and energy that I have, not to cry in front of others. It takes a lot of self-control not to fall apart as I walk down the street or go to another person's house. Or go round the shops while watching other couples living happily. Sometimes I will begin a job outside of the house; like food shopping, and just have to quit and leave and get out. Because I can't physically cope much longer with holding it together. I am an independent woman. I was independent and very capable of doing things before Luke went and I'm sure I can still be that way now but life without Luke is terrifying and this thought is crippling. It's makes me feel sick to think about it. I have to remind myself to breathe and every part of me hurts.

People mistake my calmness as me coping well. I don't think I'm coping. I am surviving. You don't get a choice in this matter. So many people wished me a happy new year or told me to have a great 2015. It's as though they had completely forgotten what had happened. Or maybe it's because they are over the death of Luke. That time of mourning was for last year. But for the rest of my life I will mourn Luke. For the rest of my life he will be the man who stole my heart and took it with him the evening he died. There will never be a 'great' year again. How can there be? Some people may have to alter a couple of things because Luke is gone. But I have to change EVERYTHING.

This is my response to a new year...

"Everyone is wishing a Happy New Year to each other. But I don't feel like tomorrow is a new year. To me it is just another day that I have to wake up without you next to me and I'm forced to acknowledge once again that this is real and not just a nightmare. It is just another day that I turn over to find an empty space where you should be laid. It is just another day that I have to get up without you and without our morning snuggle. It is just another day when I can't see your smile or hear your voice. Tomorrow is just another day that I learn again that I only need to get one cup out of the cupboard for our morning tea/coffee, so I have to put your cup back in and put the coffee away. It's another day when I don't hear your coffee machine. Tomorrow is just another day when I walk through the house with just an empty echo of where you used to be. Tomorrow is just another day where there are no more conversations with each other. It is just another day when I can't hear your laugh or see your smile. It is just another day where I can't touch you or feel your touch. Tomorrow is just another day when I learn and feel and experience all over again what it is to lose you; and I'm sure that each of these times another piece of me breaks. It is just another day that I have to fight every second of, just to make it through to the evening. This night will not change my loss. It will not get better because a number has changed from 2014 to 2015. Tomorrow will be just like every other day has been since you left - A day without you xxxx"

I realised tonight that never again will I be someone's very first thought when they wake or the very last thought when they fall asleep. Never again will I be someone's thought in the day, which will make them smile. Never again will I be the reason why someone smiles and laughs. Never again will I be someone's entire world and their everything. Never again will I be the one that someone wants to spend the rest of their lives with. Never again will I make someone think, "Wow." Never again will I be important to someone or someone's priority. Never again will I be loved like Luke loved me. And never again will I feel this way about another.

Tomorrow is just another day where this all begins again. Except it's harder because everyone around me expects me to be getting better and back to normal. Because after all...it is a new year.

37 days to a wedding that can never happen...

Luke has been gone for far too long. It's been a month. A whole month since I saw him last and yet it only feels like yesterday. What have I achieved in a month? Not a lot to be honest. I have achieved nothing apart from surviving each day. In fact the days have just molded into one long mass of time. It is 00.27 and I'm wide awake, which is why I'm up and writing this. 

There is a serious amount of paperwork to do. I now have to sort out wedding insurance but I'm only needing to claim for one thing as everyone else have ignored their policies and returned all the money, which has been absolutely fantastic. I also have to sort out the insurance for the cancelled honeymoon. You would think that given the circumstances the insurance would make life as easy as possible. But no...they require a ridiculous amount of evidence and I lost count of how many times I had to write, "Luke died." on one form!!! Seriously, read the first frigging reason and quit asking questions! It's a good job I'm an organisation freak and kept all of the wedding receipts and honeymoon stuff together too because this would be even harder if I couldn't find the things.

Dismantling a wedding is hard and heart-breaking. If Luke and I had just changed our minds then I could cope with that. If he had been posted somewhere and we needed to postpone it...I could handle that. But this is horrific. It's a total smack of reality in the face of a future lost. (As if it wasn't clear enough already!) To make matters worse, photos all over facebook of happily married people just punches you when you're down. I don't want to see happy brides with their man because I'm never ever going to have that. Never again will I laugh and joke with Luke. So I'm not interested in seeing others doing that. Selfish? Yes - completely and utterly selfish but that's how I feel. I don't want to hear about someone else's wedding plans or about their honeymoon. Selfish again? Yes. But that's how I feel and there isn't a lot I can do to change that. I don't want to hear about the happy futures of others right now. Maybe one day I'll be ok with it but right now all I think is..."That should be us." We should be smiling down the camera on our wedding day. We should be getting excited about our honeymoon!! We should have been finalising our wedding plans this month. But instead I was organising Luke's funeral and cancelling our wedding. How is that fair?

Instead of arranging flowers for my bouquet and for the button holes, I had to arrange funeral flowers and a coffin top. Instead of helping Luke choose his outfit for our wedding, I had to go through his wardrobe and choose his final outfit. I had to decide whether he would want to wear something posh like his suit but then questioned if he would be ok with his favourite ridiculously expensive suit being burned. So then I had to decide if he'd like to wear his favourite bordies and vest top but would he want to be in them all the time because he loved to dress up. So I decided to dress him in his smart casual clothes that he wore on our dates. Now THAT was hard. Giving up the clothes that I associated so many happy times with. They were clothes that were so him. He had two date shirts. I chose to keep his main one because I just couldn't let that go but I did put him in his other favourite date shirt. It felt like losing another part of him. I thought I knew which trousers to put him in until I realised he had two pairs of the same colour! AArgh!!! It took me ages to think back to all the times I could remember him wearing them, frantically trying to remember the feel of them so I could figure out which pair to put him in. I think I chose the right pair. But man alive did I feel emotionally drained after that.

But once I had chosen the clothes I had to think about his shoes. I know he loved his brown shoes but he also loved his timberlands. I worried if Luke would be ok with his best pair of timberlands being burned but then I thought...what am I going to do with them and isn't it better for him to be wearing them? When someone dies you're never prepared for the tasks that you have to do. So when I die I am telling you all to bury me in my wedding dress or any other pretty dress so that you don't have to go through the same experience that I did. It's soul destroying to look through Luke's clothes, remembering him in them and where we were or what we were doing, whilst also knowing that these clothes will never be worn again. I have a whole wardrobe of clothes that will forever stand empty and absent of Luke's warmth. Life is an absolute bitch.

I was attempting to arrange a trip to New York in the summer but everyone is busy, which just shows again how lost I am without Luke. :( I'm tempted to just go on my own and see what happens. I think it will be particularly sad without Luke there and even sadder that I'm on my own but I really want to go and it was an adventure that Luke and I were suppose to do, so I kinda feel like I owe it to him to go. Our lives really weren't suppose to be this way. How is he dead?? 

It is now 01:50 and I'm still wide awake on the sofa. Sleeping clearly isn't something my body thinks it needs. Aargh everything is so frigging hard!! In 37 days I should be getting married to Luke. But this isn't happening anymore. I am now thinking about what I will do on our wedding day. I am not looking forward to that day. :(

xx