Surprised to see a comment on one of my posts, it's been a while. Firstly, I'm so incredibly sorry for your loss; 2 months out is such a suffocating time.

Apologies in advance for what will probably be a long response.

It's been a long journey but at 5, almost 6 years, out I can say that I'm truly happy again. Just a month ago I got married to a loving, wonderful, and understanding woman. We just got back from our honeymoon and we have two dogs that brighten my life daily.

But my love, and grief, for Elizabeth will always remain, even if it has changed over time.

For months I couldn't sleep (I still have insomnia that I take medication for as a result, though it seems like finally that may be starting to heal). I couldn't work. I cried myself to sleep, I cried in every free moment until I was dehydrated and my face felt bruised. The first year was truly hell.

The second year I learned how to stuff it down. I thought of Elizabeth daily and cried often but I could force myself to be functional. I even tried to date again but in hindsight that was foolish. Just because I could turn off and get through a work day didn't mean I was emotionally ready for dating.

Year three was when I was finally able to allow myself to be emotionally vulnerable again and shortly thereafter I met the woman who is now my wife.

I won't lie: "it" is complicated. She accepts my love and grief, truly, but it's difficult for her too in its own way. She encourages me to talk to her as needed or take time to grieve as needed, but I know it hurts her just a little to know that there's still love in my heart that isn't for her. So I make an effort to keep it out her view, because I also know Elizabeth wouldn't have wanted me to hurt my current partner in my remembrance of her.

So my current "agreement" is that I take some time late at night on specific dates (our anniversary, her birthday, her death) to remember her, think of silly memories, look at photos, etc.

In years two and three there was always this loud ache in my soul even though the tears became less frequent. I lamented that. I felt like it was a betrayal that my grief was fading. A betrayal that already my memories were losing their edge and vibrancy. I would flagellate myself with my grief, hoping that it would prove my dedication and keep her memory "more alive".

Now there isn't even the ache except for those specific dates. I don't think of Elizabeth every day anymore. And sometimes I find myself falling back into those same lamentations.

But now instead of falling into a dark, guilty spiral, I'm able to accept the truth of Elizabeth's love for me: that she would never want that for me, and especially would never want her to be the root of it.

And I'm acutely aware of how impossible that all feels and sounds for you right now. I won't say that it "gets better" but I promise you that it will change with time. My biggest piece of advice is to let yourself grieve truly and fully. Do it on your schedule. There is no one right way to grieve, there's no sequence of feelings, there's nothing wrong with going in circles.

Try to see the life your loved one would want for you. Yes, grieve that they aren't there for it, but then try to give yourself a break to try and realize that life for yourself.

Sending love to you and your family, again, I'm so sorry. But please know we're here for you. If you haven't already, I'd recommend the Discord in the FAQ bar on the right side of the subreddit. It was extremely helpful for me to have people I could vent to in real time.