Is this my new reality?

​Hey Babe –
 
Well, it looks like the letter I wrote when I was up in the air got lost.  I didn’t save the doc and my computer crashed!  (I should have known better, but nothing I can do about it now!!)  I can’t even remember exactly what I wrote – you know widow’s brain.  I couldn’t even remember what I watched on the plane when my coworker asked, and we just landed and was still at the airport!  Well, I’ve arrived in Shenzhen now…safe and sound. 
 
Anyways, one of the stories I wrote about was my Lyft ride to the airport.  The driver picked me up and asked where I was going, and I said SFO.  She was happy because she wanted to get back to the city since she ended up in Oakland when she dropped someone off at OAK from the city.  Then I asked, “You didn’t know where I was going when you came to pick me up?”  She explained how drivers don’t know the destination of the rider until they arrive at the pick-up location, which makes sense now since I always thought it was strange when drivers would ask where I’m going when I get inside a Lyft.  Then I said, “Doesn’t the app send you riders that are going in the direction you want to go?”  She explained the app is supposed to do that, but it doesn’t always work that way.  Then I said, “Well, you just have to trust the app.  It’s like having faith in God.”  She blurted, “I don’t trust the app!”  So, for most of the ride to the airport, we were discussing how we (the driver and I) didn’t believe in institutions.  I told her how we (you and I) didn’t believe in marriage, but we got married anyways.  We did it when we were ready, in our own time, and in our own way.  I go on to tell her a story about what MG’s guest (who doesn’t know us all) said about the reading at our ceremony.  During the reading, she turned to MG and said, “What kind of reading is this?!  It doesn’t seem appropriate for a wedding.”  Then MG said, “You don’t know them.  Just wait.”  By the end of the reading, she smiled and said, “That’s beautiful.”  Then the Lyft driver asked how long we’ve been married.  Usually in this situation where strangers are involved, I would just pretend and talk about you as if you were still alive.  I liked it when people didn’t know my story, and I could talk about you like you were still alive without getting the weird looks and people feeling sad and/or sorry for me.  I liked to pretend I was still a happily married wife with a husband that was alive; it made me feel happy and normal.  I always prefer to talk about you in the present tense instead of the past tense, but some people get weirded out but it.  I know you aren’t here anymore, but you will always be alive to me—even if it’s just in my heart and soul.  But lately, I’ve noticed how I’ve become more open and honest about my situation, even with strangers or people who wouldn’t need to know otherwise (like my hairstylist)—I could pretend forever, and they wouldn’t know the difference.  I had an old coworker from the fruit company and an old grad school friend who reached out randomly in the last couple of weeks, and when they asked how I was doing, I was open and honest and told them, not well since you passed.  So, I told the lyft driver, “We were married for 2 ½ years when he passed away in January.”  She handled it well and got inquisitive instead of awkward, which for me was a good thing.   
 
Yesterday, I got to the episode in This is US where Mandy Moore’s character’s husband had passed away for about 8 or more years, and I noticed she was still wearing her wedding ring.  In the same scene, she gets a ping from her husband's best friend on Facebook messenger to ask how she was doing after not having contact for 8 years.  She started to type, "I'm hanging in there" but then erased it and type, "I'm okay".  I guess she realized that after 8+ years, the correct response to "How are you doing?" is "I'm okay" instead of "I'm hanging in there."  I definitely know this feeling, because I do the same thing.  When someone texts or asks how I'm doing, I've come to learn that the correct response for the stage I am in is "I'm hanging in there" and not "I'm okay."  For instance, if I said, "I'm okay," the person would questions whether I'm okay or not, but if I say, "I'm hanging in there," they don't question it.  But in Mandy Moore's situation, if she says "I'm hanging in there," the person might find it strange or odd that she still hadn't gotten over her husband's death after 8+ years.  So, I found it ironic that the show plays on the emotions of how we (widow(er)s) have been conditioned by society to craft our responses in a believable way so were not subjected to further inquiries, questioning, or judgment of our wellbeing.  

The other day, JO told me that her coworker, whose husband passed away suddenly and unexpected four years ago, is finally going through her husband’s belongings and getting rid of his things.  She just got comfortable with his stuff being around, which I can relate to.  I feel the same way, I’m just comfortable with all your things around the house.  Most of the time, I go about my day like any other day, but then there are days, where I pay special attention to your things.  I would look and touch your stuff and feel an intense pain and yearning in my heart.  You don’t know how much I miss you.  Most of the time, I just block it out because the pain and sadness become to unbearable, I wouldn’t be able to live or function; let alone breathe.
 
Lately, I’ve been asking myself these questions a lot

• Will I ever be okay?
• Will I get through this?
• How long does it take to get over the love of your life?

 
I don’t even need to consult with Google to know the answers to these questions are ¯\_(ツ)_/

P.S. Just in case you don’t remember the reading from our wedding ceremony, here it is (but I know you remember, just like how you always point out when you hear our first dance song playing):
 
An excerpt from the movie Frida:
 
“I don't believe in marriage. No, I really don't. Let me be clear about that. I think at worst it's a hostile political act, a way for small-minded men to keep women in the house and out of the way, wrapped up in the guise of tradition and conservative religious nonsense. At best, it's a happy delusion - these two people who truly love each other and have no idea how truly miserable they're about to make each other. But, when two people know that, and they decide with eyes wide open to face each other and get married anyways, then I don't think it's conservative or delusional. I think it's radical and courageous and very romantic.”