Today, right about now, marks one calendar month since Jo passed away. Right about now, it is also almost exactly one lunar month since I stood underneath a waxing moon and asked the Goddess of the Moon to watch over her spirit and keep her safe until my spirit can join her.
I feel like, in a lot of ways, I'm not doing as well now as I was then. Maybe that's not fair to say, since on that night there was a lot of shock and a lot of people around, and other than a miserable drive home after receiving the call from the police, I had had very little chance to feel anything yet.
It really does feel like it is getting harder and not easier, though. This week was really difficult; the work trip felt all wrong, because there would always be lots of texts and emails and phone calls when we were separated, and this time there wasn't. Coming home to an empty house on Saturday felt really bad. Then the internet was down all weekend, which took away my primary sources of communication and entertainment, so mainly, I just sat around and cried a lot. That might actually surprise people, since I seem not to do that very much when I'm not alone; honestly, I'm not nearly as strong as I probably come across in person.
I really need to figure out what it is I still have left, besides work; I feel like I've lost my connection to basically everything. Our game doesn't feel right without her; I think I'm feeling committed to seeing the end of the current story arc, but if I haven't re-connected to it in the meantime I will probably need to let it go. Even cooking is hard; the actual preparing of the food still feels okay, but eating alone without her makes it tough.
Worst, I feel like my spiritual connection has been damaged; I am having trouble finding a connection to the other side right now. This is especially bad since that is where she is at the moment, and if I could have that back maybe she wouldn't feel so far away, maybe it wouldn't feel so empty to talk to her.
I'm telling myself that it is probably just the grief that is blocking all those things, and with time I will find my way again. It will probably have to be a new way, since I had intertwined my way with hers so completely, but I will find it eventually. Maybe a month is really just not that long when it comes to these things.
One thing I have noticed about myself, which is probably not doing me any favors, is that the worse I am feeling, the harder it is for me to actually reach out to someone. I guess that is something that Jo and I had in common, that wish to never be a burden for anyone. I don't do it on purpose, it is just hard. Like, even if I decide who it is I would want to talk to, I never seem to get past the part where I figure out what I would say if I called. I guess until I figure that part out, writing will help; I can get some stuff out, and nobody has to be obligated--'burdened'--to respond.