Written 6/18/2014

Yesterday was the 17th week since Ian’s death. Today is the four month anniversary. While some things have remained the same, much has changed since then.

We have new employees at work. One of them is in his old office. Another is filling the spot he left vacant. The majority of the things that still had his name on them have been changed or deleted. There are still records and reminders, but they’re fewer and further between. At work, I’m glad for that. Seeing his name on things causes emotions to surge that I’d rather not have to hide/deal with at work (though I have my own office, and have no problem closing the door so I can.)

I went to talk to the gentleman who is in his old office for a bit today, and had to catch my breath a little. It’s hard to be in there, and not be talking to him. There were so many times that I’d walk in, close the door, and just take comfort in his presence. Really. I’d walk in, close the door, and just breathe. He looked at me like I was crazy, but it helped… Or I’d rant at him about something that was bugging me and he’d listen and commiserate, or make a clever joke, or a highly inappropriate one. Or I’d be having a rough, bad day, and ask for a hug. Sometimes, he’d roll his eyes. But he’d always give me a hug. He gave really good hugs.

The gentleman who’s in that office now is a nice person, as far as I can tell… but he’s not Ian. And it’s hard to not compare.

My house is still rife with Ian things. Things that were his. Things that remind me of him. Pictures. I have yet to do anything with most of it. It’s sitting in random places, making my house more cluttered than I like. But I can’t think of what to do, or motivate myself to do the things I know to do. I just let it all sit around. Being there.

Friday is his birthday. I’m dreading that day. I have no idea if I’ll be in decent shape. I have no idea what I’ll want or need. It scares me, not knowing. Like a giant storm cloud that may just drop some soaking rain and give a pretty show… Or maybe it’ll drop a couple tornadoes and destroy everything in its wake. I wish I could predict.

It’s still somewhat incomprehensible that he’s gone for good. I still find myself just baffled sometimes. It’s like I can’t wrap my head around it, even though I know exactly what it means… Exactly what it is… I still just don’t get it. That disturbs me. I comprehend things. It’s something I’m good at. But this… On occasion… Just eludes me.

I miss his chest. The shape of it. The hair… How his voice sounded through it. I wish I could lay on it now. I wish I could hear his laugh. I wish I could time travel. If wishes were fishes….

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