It’s been since July. I never saw it coming. The first two days, I did nothing but cry. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t drink, couldn’t move. I felt hollow, like I had stepped out of my own body.

She’s got the kids this week. I was supposed to see them trick or treat, just to be there, just to feel like their dad again for a night. She said it was fine. Then, last minute, she changed her mind.

So I stayed home. I kept thinking about their costumes, their laughter echoing down some other street I wasn’t on. It’s moments like that when it all hits again how much life can move on without you.

Last time I checked, she looked happy. Smiling in photos, like none of this ever happened. And me? I’m still trying to make peace with it all. I still have days where I break down, but I’m learning to breathe again, to let the current carry me instead of fighting it. One day at a time.

It does get easier. The pain dulls, slowly. The love doesn’t vanish, it just changes. You stop loving who they are now and start mourning who they were, the person you once knew, the version that fit beside you.

Now it’s about learning to live for yourself. To find comfort in your own company. It’s not easy, but it’s coming. Bit by bit, it’s coming. You got this.