I myself wonder if it does get easier. I hope it does. It needs to.
Even though everyone knows that I really miss how things used to be.
When will I pass by a store window and not, at least for a minute, expect to see you standing next to me looking at the display inside?
When will I order food without wondering what you were going to order, or wondering how we are both going to be able to try two things if we are eating alone?
When will I not burst into tears at hearing your name, sometimes even before I can make it to the bathroom and spare myself the very public embarrassment of a hurt you wear directly on your sleeve?
When will I stop caring what you’re doing?
When will I stop imagining what you look like with other people, or even how many of these “other people” have been a part of your life since I left?
When will getting out of bed and doing everyday things not seem like an unimaginable…
View original post 267 more words