This will be a short post.
I have never been a morning person, ever. I am definitely not one after husband passed.
Waking up in the morning is awful. Knowing I am not dead yet, and I wouldn't get any morning hugs and love text throughout the day, I found my days are harder to get by. Night time is better especially after I put baby to sleep. The thought of knowing I am a day closer to death makes me happier. The only guilty feeling I have is I have one less day spending time with my parents.
I'm only in my mid-30s. I can't imagine I will need to live like this for the next 20+ years. The fortune master I consulted told me I, most likely, would not live past 63-65. Glad to know I'm already more than half way done with my life, but it is still depressing to know I will have another 10500 days to live. Bearing the void of missing my husband for the rest of my life only intensify the excruciating pain I am having every day.
Life seems too long for me to handle. How funny that a life I used to love and enjoy has now became a burden. Love could conquer all but it also kills everything. The day my husband died, he took my entire all away. As my mom told me one day in tears, "Not only I lost my son-in-law, my only daughter is dead as well." That's pathetic, but very true. I am simply a living dead.