Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time.

Well, we’ve made it this far. The only thing left to do is to somehow, despite every urge that is within me, go to the funeral home and go through with tomorrow and whatever it holds.

I don’t want to be there. I have been grieving Kellie’s loss very visibly for the past month, and you all know how I feel about her, how I’ve always felt about her.

But I’ll be there anyway, because I owe her everything. A single day of the worst discomfort I can imagine pales in comparison to what she’s given me.

We were meant to live life together, and we did. We got 10,791 days—thirty years and 21 days of sharing this plane of existence with one another. I’ve only lived around half as long without her as I have with her, if you count from my birth.

I don’t know who I am without Kellie here. I don’t know what time I go to bed, I don’t know what I like to watch on TV, I don’t know how to quiet down my roiling thoughts. I don’t know what matters to me. I don’t know anything.

I only know that I love her down to the marrow of my bones, and she’s not here.

I’ll write more tomorrow, or at least when I’m able. Maybe not tomorrow. Expect me to skip writing tomorrow.

See many of you soon.

Matt