Grief log, Day 120

I reach across our bed every morning at 4 a.m. to feel your wavy soft auburn hair. You are absent. It’s just not right, but there’s no cure.  It’s been 4 months to the day today, and the pain doesn’t lessen.  I miss you my love.  There will never be another like you. I will never love another the same way I loved you. I would not do that to you, to me, to us.

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