Tom died a month ago today. Although that life goes on, the pain still lingers. I am sure that it is something that will always be there. I tried to sing his favorite song the other night at karaoke, and I almost made all the way through, but ended up breaking down during the last phrase. I left the bar after that and came home and cried for a while. I might never be able to sing that song all the way through again.
I have his shelf set up and I still say good morning and good night to his picture. I suppose that makes me some kind of freak, but I can't help it. I miss him a lot. There is a part of me that will never forgive myself for his death. I know. I really need to. It will take time, perhaps a lot of time.
My home is always quiet. I am always alone while I am there. I have forced myself to go out and meet new people, make new friends, but even still, I feel empty inside. I guess that's a choice, but it is the one I am making right now. I know that my real friends will accept me for that. I also know that I don't always show how I am feeling on the inside because there is no need to.
For now, I'll just get through each day one at a time. And forgive myself eventually.
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