I got divorced in early 2013. At that time, I felt a large part of my identity was tied to being married and to my family. I felt like a total failure. The lows I felt from that were something I’d really never felt before for such a long time.

I’m back there right now. There are similarities, but I’ve also been trying to figure out the difference between that and now. Well, the obvious that a divorce is a failure of sorts and the other person is still around. You can get angry, you can blame the other person (and yourself). But now with Erika’s passing, there’s no anger toward her. It’s all hurt. It’s all pain. It’s all emptiness. I was thinking tonight that any time I was feeling down or sad or hurt or bad about anything, I could always turn to Erika and she’d know how to make things better. We were one. I always had that trust with her that I could tell her anything, talk to her about anything, and she would always try her hardest to make it better. Multiple times in the last few days, the thought flashes in my head to talk to her. To have her make it better. To have her help me fix it. But she can’t. The person that I need most to help me feel better isn’t here. It’s a total void. Total darkness. Lost. I thought I had the right words for all of this, but I’m not sure I do yet. It’s just such an empty feeling where I’m just so used to being dependent on someone else, and she’s not here. The one person I trust that I can talk to, is not here.

I know all my gushing about Erika may seem corny and maybe unbelievable to some, but it’s really true. Most mornings, I woke up before her, sometimes by a couple hours. Multiple times, I sat around like a little kid on Christmas morning, waiting for the whole family to get up, just so I could start my daily routine with her. Just so I could see her again. We had so many little corny things that we did for each other. One that we had was every morning, we’d celebrate her simply getting out of bed. Yep, it really was that silly. When I’d see her come downstairs, I’d throw both hands in the air and cheer “Yay! You did it again! You got up!” It always made her smile. If there was a morning I forgot to do it immediately, she’d just stop and look at me and start to put her hands up as if to say “Do I get a cheer today?” Like I said, it was silly, but it was fun, and it was what we did.