The Wall

There are times I feel like I’m grieving my own life almost as much as I’m grieving hers. That sounds selfish until I think about it for more than two seconds and realize it’s just true. I lost her. The kids lost their mom. And I also lost the version of me that existed with her. The life architecture. The shared future. The assumptions. The rhythm. The person I was when I had a co-pilot. Now I’m living this alternate timeline I never would have chosen, and I’m supposed to be grateful for resilience or some shit. No. I can acknowledge survival without pretending this didn’t annihilate entire parts of my own existence. I miss my wife. I miss our marriage. I miss our team. I miss the old me. I miss the world where our future still had shape. That’s a lot of funerals for one body to carry.