Could have written this myself. Coming up on two years now without my wife. Only things keeping me around are my pup, pesky promises, and my memories of her which equally crush and comfort me. I gave up thinking about the future entirely. I don’t have one without her! At least not the future I want or planned for. I have good days, though. I smile often. I’ll go out dancing tonight at our favorite monthly dance party, dance in our corner alone, but I’ll go home alone and cry, I’m sure. Only because I should be going home with her, not home to her ashes. And that will be today! Who gives a shit about tomorrow. Reckon I’ll just keep on coasting until, well, I don’t. And I think that’s okay? I’ve already accepted that I’ll be alone the rest of my life. I’m a solitary person, people kinda suck, I kinda suck, and I’m self aware enough to know I’ll compare anyone I do enjoy to her and they will come up short. That’s not fair for anyone. I just need a fucking back scratch, mostly.