A Jonny-shaped hole.
It's 5.26am and I know I should at least try to sleep but, instead, I find myself needing to write. Perhaps it's the fact that I started writing this week... and it brought so much up... and then I had a couple of days without it - and there are all these feelings with nowhere to go. And I've started the process so somehow now I can't go back. I don't know what it is about this week. I'm finding the loss of Jonny harder and harder. They say grief comes in waves and when it hits it really hits, but I'm surprised to find myself returning to those nights, which were there at the very beginning, when I couldn't sleep or would wake in the middle of the night and then not be able to get back to sleep, for thinking. My mind whirring. The physical experience of loss. There's a Jonny-shaped hole in my life and it hurts. When I first got the news, I was scrambling around for the right words to express the sense of pain and loss (bewilderment, too)