It was done. I had broken the seal. I had taken the next big leap.
I lay there, my eyes closed, listening to his breathing even out.
5 years. 5 years of being without my husband. 5 years of telling myself that I’ll be ready soon. I’ll be ready soon… and then sprinting as soon as another man even smiled at me in a way that could be interpreted as interest. Wll, it was definitely interest, I can't pretend it wasn't. The bathroom incident was the first major hint... or slap in the face.
5 years.
I kept asking myself if it was cheating... but it wasn't. No, I was back to the whole 'survivors guilt' I was told about, even though I wasn't part of the accident. It's a type of guilt you can still get when a partner dies and you're still here. You feel guilty that it wasn't you that died. The
