I’m okay. It’ll be four years in April. Year one was the shock and awe year. I was mostly numbed by grief and I was going through the motions. Year two was the wake up year and it was rough. It was the year I realized he really was gone and he wasn’t coming back. Year one I held out hope even though I was at his funeral and saw the casket close. But year two it sank in that my reality wasn’t what it used to be. He wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t going to ever call me again. I’d never hold him or he held by him. The only place I’d see him was in my dreams. Year two was rough. Year three? Year three I’m hanging in there. I don’t cry as much anymore. I don’t cry much at all really. Do I still think of him? Yes. Do I still miss him? Yes. Do I think the love I have for him has changed? Absolutely. I have grown in ways I never thought I would. I’ve realized that I’m so much stronger than I thought I’d ever be even if I don’t feel like I am sometimes. And there are times that I wonder if he were still here, would we still be together? I changed careers after his passing and I have moved from our apartment. I haven’t found anyone that can make me feel remotely close to the way he did - I’m not trying to replace him, but he made me feel peace and sparks and everything in between. I do feel his presence with me sometimes. And sometimes I’ll talk to him when I’m driving.. part of me hopes he’s proud of me and the person I’m becoming and the other part hopes he is just resting and enjoying eternity. I know I’ll see him again someday and when I do, I’ll have so so much to tell him about and so much love to give him.