The New Year's Day Zombie

All day yesterday I spent at home, stumbling around in a daze. I didn't get dressed or go out. No matter what I did, my thoughts kept returning to what I had let slip through my fingers. Everywhere I looked: Signs of Suzie.

Going down the stairs I glanced at over at Mona and she stared blankly at nothing--Wearing a wig that Suz bought for her. On the dining room table is my portable DVD player, bought for our vacation trip to Utah, snugly parked inside a beautiful case of cloth that she made for it. Behind the table, hanging on the back of a chair is the leather motorcycle jacket I bought for her that she refused to take with her. I went out to the garage and there stood her bicycle--Ridden only a few times since it was bought. The new Harley seat I bought for her riding comfort stared at me from the garage floor, my having temporarily removed a couple weeks ago so I could charge the battery...

Even the Bejeweled game that I was so hopelessly smitten by for the last several weeks was failing me. When I was playing it to try distract myself I only succeeded in reminding myself of her all the more because we were always trying to outplay each other.

I wanted to watch a movie but nothing sounded good. I found myself listening to Radio Paradise.com and it helped until I was reminded of how much she loves it and can always name the song that's playing. Every time I walked through the living room my gaze went to the crumpled tissue box on the coffee table. Even in the bathroom--There hangs her bath towel and there stands her toothbrush in the holder next to mine.

This has never happened to me before in this magnitude. Even after being married for 19 years I didn't feel this way when it ended. It had tapered off so slowly over time that it was just like moving and nothing more when it finally ended.

We spent some time last night chatting back and forth online in Gmail, and I found it to be very cathartic. I think it helped both of us a great deal.

I'm sure I'll be okay--After all, time heals wounds. They may always be visible, but they do eventually heal.