I don’t know how a month has gone by, but it has. An entire month of waking up alone. A month of crying myself to sleep. An entire month of meals that never taste quite right. A month without the one person who made the world make sense.

My world feels like it’s standing still. I wander through each day, unsure of how I got to the end of it and uncertain of what I even did that day. I feel like a zombie. I go through the motions because I have to, but inside I feel completely empty. I feel completely and utterly lost. Frozen in time, unable to leave the past.

And yet, the rest of the world seems to keep going as if nothing happened.

“The carousel never stops turning.”

When two Grey’s Anatomy obsessed people become lovers, quotes from the television show get used a lot. While some (like “pants feelings” and “I only have one shoe!”) were often used in playful or humorous ways, others filled in the gap during more serious moments.

We used, “The carousel never stops turning,” a lot both before and after we started dating. When I was dealing with issues during my divorce, Emily would say it to me. She’d use it herself when life was stressful or when upsetting things happened, like a sponsee passing. Sometimes when one of us would send the other money for a bill or unexpected expense, we’d use the phrase as the description for the payment.

That simple phrase filled in so many spaces in conversations. I never thought I’d use it to describe a world without her. Yet, here we are.

I Want the Carousel to Stop

I survived an entire month without Emily… barely.

The townhouse is a mess because our plans to clean it on Monday and Tuesday that week a month ago changed. I’ve barely moved or touched anything I haven’t absolutely needed to since I came home from the hospital around this time one month ago, and what I have done either made a bigger mess or did very little to actually improve the condition of our home.

I have gone to the grocery store a total of once in the past month. I’ve hardly cooked and relied on restaurants to provide me with meals. Some days when the kids aren’t home I only eat once per day. It all feels like too much work.

Sleep continues to be a struggle, as does showering and all other parts of daily living. It all seems so pointless. What’s the point?

People keep saying that I have to keep going for my kids and to continue Emily’s legacy. But is that really the case? There are other people to care for the kids, and others are far better suited to share Emily’s story. I really don’t see a point in doing anything, and that’s the problem.

It’s been an entire month, and I haven’t enjoyed this carousel ride one bit. So excuse me, because today just might be the day I decide to get off the ride and end the madness for good.