Messy

Before Bear, I had things in order.

It took me a while to find the perfect husband but when I did, it was (and is) so right that I never questioned it again.
We found somewhere lovely to live.
My job was as I liked it.
Things bobbed along nicely.
We had fun.
We had great friends.
We didn't have any issues.
We always - or as close to always as is humanely possible - smiled our way through the days and months.
We had nice things on the horizon.
We took holidays where we turned off our phones and focused on relaxation.
We had a wonderful wedding.
Everything was nice.


Now everything is messy.
Everywhere I turn, our sadness has impacted on another facet of what we had built. Nothing seems untouched by Bear.
In a sense, it is wonderful to see his power. And yet, the destruction in his wake is sometimes too much to handle. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Bear's death feels as though a bomb has exploded at the epicentre of our lives, and its force has sent the shards of before in so many directions that we can't actually find the pieces again.
We don't have the strength to go collecting, and so here we are, in the rubble. Bits of concrete still falling on our heads. We are dusty and sad and nothing is neat and tidy anymore.