Pain and Romance

I have been talking a lot about you and not writing so much about how I feel. I have been a bit desperate for feedback and some opinion on my view of the world. Nothing has been the same. Sometimes I suspect even food taste different to when we would sit next to each other and share a meal. It is really difficult to come here and write about you from a position of power and not that of a victim that everyone must feel sorry for.  My latest conversation conversation about you was with Rev. Siza Lugojolo. The man who presided at your funeral. Our whatsapp messages are always intense because he always goes for the truths I am sometimes not ready to hear. Almost the same way you would just address the elephant in the room when everyone is comfortable in discomfort. It's another affirmation that you probably live through people who love and care for me. It still does not mitigate the injustice which is your death or the constant pain triggered by everything we used to do together. I still run into you even in my new routine. But Ihave graduated from being the "cry-er" to someone who knows when not to break down. Not always easy, but it has certainly gotten better. Rev. Siza gave me a whole lesson on learning to live beyond death of a spouse. It really made think on whether grief makes us romanticise pain so much that we want to do the things that preserve the pain and not walking towards healing. Part of the said healing to me, means leaving you behind. "Marriage ends in death. There are no marriages in heaven," Siza told me. He further said that Jesus answered this question when he was asked about a woman who married seven men who all died before her. "Moving on" is justified in the Bible. But I don't think there is any piece of writing that will make me feel whole again. Am I romanticising pain? I know your answer would be No because you knew better than anyone how I hate pity.  I wish the were timelines to how long this pain would last. But I have realised that unconventional ways are the only ways to get through each day. The planned methods have never worked. I miss you.