It’s been a while since I felt courageous enough to log in and write a post. I’m not even sure how to describe where I am in my life right now – grief is one hell of a ride. Some days I feel so sure of myself, so solid in my choices, so alive with freedom . . . and then it can all crash down and I can see the tearful reunion in my head. It’s the worst when I picture us hugging, because I can remember that so physically that I tear up.

I’m not sure why, but the longer I’m away from him, the worse I feel. I thought the opposite would happen. But the last two weeks have required intense strength and discipline to keep me from driving by, sending a message, gettin’ all reckless and giving in to the evil voices plotting in my thoughts.

Then, the date.

And being called ‘baby’ by someone else, and the tears that threatened to give me away to people I’d just met. And, damn you facebook, he updated his picture. After I’d updated mine.

I know what you’re trying to do.

And damn me, but it worked. He looked more handsome than even in my dirtiest memories and that evil voice thought it should be no problem to just mention it’s a nice picture.

Except, he sure as hell didn’t say that about mine.

And it’s a damn good picture, if I say so and took it myself.

So now I’m listening to Warren Haynes whom we both love, and it helps but it doesn’t. It makes me feel closer to him in ways that don’t cause tangible drama, but the music can’t hug me. The music doesn’t smell like him. The music doesn’t tell me what I want to know.

I keep telling myself: My wanting to see him is like wanting my favorite ice cream – it may be satisfying in the moment, but I know from past experience, it’s not the healthiest choice. Not for every day.

But maybe, if I check my email one more time, I’ll get some temporary relief in the form of an email.

Too bad that only happens on the days when I feel my happiest and his words don’t affect me.