Nights are hard

It has been 12 and a half months since my husband died. And in those 12 and a half months I have learned that the hardest time are the nights.

Night time was our time. We would put our son to bed and then we would sit on the couch watching a movie, talk,  snuggle on the bed. It didn't matter what we did, we just spent the time together. We may not have said a word but we were together.

And now when I'm of the nights arrive and my son goes to bed, I am alone. It is a very harsh reality to realize there's no one to spend my nights with. There is no one to sit on the couch with. There is no one to snuggle with. There's no one to watch TV with it. There's no one to not talk with but still be in the same room. Now my nights are silent and lonely.

Hardest part is being alone. Not having your constant companion. Not having that one person that knew you better than you know yourself. Not having that one person who loves you no matter what. Not having that one person who could make it a better simply by being present. Not having that one person who was your person.

Instead, I spend my nights alone.
Alone with my thoughts.
Alone with my memories.
Alone with my heartache.
Alone with my grief.

My nights by myself, wishing.
Wishing he could come home.
Wishing he was here.
Wishing anything but that he was gone. And if wishes were true, I would give anything.

But unfortunately they're not. And my reality is that my husband is in heaven and he is never coming back to our home.

I'm going to have to learn to adjust to my nights alone. I'm going to have to learn to adjust to living without my constant companion. I'm going to have to learn to live without the person who loves me more than I love myself.

I'm going to have to learn. To live. Learn to live this new life that I didn't ask for. Learn to live this new life that I never wanted. Learn to live this new life that I was dealt. And it sucks. I hate being alone at night. The nights are definitely the hardtimes