Going through the apartment and the room that I shared with Jeff is a struggle. It brings our life back and I am stopped dead in my tracks with how surreal it is that we had a life together. We had SO MUCH and it is gone. It's just gone and it is almost like it never was. Just thoughts and clutter and I HAVE to get rid of the stuff because the stuff wasn't us anyway.
How can it all be over and how can it have been gone for so long already? I'm sorry that my bringing this up brings it up for others but I'm having a really damned hard time. I hate this. I know it's all part of the process but I hate it. I hate facing that in order to keep living I have to let go and move on. I hate facing that I do that very well, because I still believe that he was one of the most valuable and beloved people that I will have had in a lifetime of people and experiences that gets more vast each day that I live.
I found his wallet. He smiled at me from his driver's license and I couldn't take it. I feel so guilty sometimes still that I am too good at moving on. He is always in that place where he loved me utterly and I have opened my heart to other people since and it might have gone utterly miserably, but that's life. And it's stupid to cry over a driver's license photo, but I am.
There are $3 in the billfold. I can't believe they're still in there.
And there's still so much work to do before Sunday's move...I'm weary.
