I had an anxiety attack in the airport yesterday. I pulled myself together in the restroom. I made it through the longest day today at work and then broke down in the car after work. I am not sleeping still. The depth of the grief and the physical pain I feel in my chest is unbearable. I can't fathom how his girls feel, if I am feeling this way. I want to take their pain away and know I can't. This is impossible for everyone.
There are not words in the English language to accurately describe how much I miss him. A piece of me died with him and it will never be recovered. I will never, ever be the same person I was three weeks ago.
I would give anything to hear his voice again. To hear him answer my phone call with a simple, "Hi." Anything for a few sentences or a simple goodbye and I love you.
His ringtone for me was My Girl. He was so funny about it and so proud of it in so many ways. I used to tease him about it and, admittedly, roll my eyes. He used to tell me he chose My Girl because it perfectly described how he felt. The man knew how to love me.
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