I’ve been feeling better for a bit. A little stronger than I was. A little more hopeful that I can get used to this.

Then last night I had a mundane dream about nothing in particular. And when I woke from it I felt the massive capstone of grief descend on me. In my dream I felt normal. There was no grief.

I wept realizing I’d forgotten how I used to feel. Without this ever-present sorrow. The joyous me in the dream is a stranger now. I miss how I used to feel. I’m so very tired of the heavy weight of grief. I was inconsolable for a few hours and woke with eyes swollen almost shut and a hoarse voice from calling out for him.

I don’t want to dream anymore. It’s too hard to feel better for those few minutes and then return to this reality.