I’m seriously fucking lonely.

But I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to shop. I don’t want to eat somewhere. I don’t want to mix with people.

And that’s the fucked-up part. I miss having her beside me. Not anyone else.
Her!

So when people tell me to go out, meet people, keep myself occupied, I wonder if they actually fucking understand what I’m saying.

I’m not bored. I’m fucking lonely.

There’s a difference!

I've been reading the post in this community for some time now, ever since my beautiful and loving wife was diagnosed with aml.

She had AML with the TP53 mutation which would mean she would have a slim chance of living longer than three months. She was already sick for more than 12 years and could not eat or drink normally, she would get her dietary intake through TPN (a liquid containing the nutrition her body needed given directly into her blood stream)

She was a incredibly strong willed women who didn't let her diseases slow her down and she made it from February untill October, but as I'm writing this late at night she passed away yesterday.

My beautiful soulmate had to leave me and our 9 year old daughter at the age of 42 years.

She died at home in our bed after receiving palliative sedation which started three days ago.

I don't know how i'll go on from here, i'm writing this after Midnight so today i will go to the  funeral home and i'll help clean and dress my wife. Most of the funeral is already planned, she made sure things were in order long before she became to sick.

I've cried a lot the passed few days and our daughter cried a lot during the nights and we're going to take it day by day but i don't know.

My wife was my strength, she was there for me as i was for her and now she's gone.

Our daughter and i already have grief counseling, as i already wrote my wife made sure we would be taken care for when her time would come. But how to live life without her by my side, i just don't know.

I just needed to let her story out there, at least some of it.

I'm so mad and sad. My husband committed suicide last week and took every plan for the future in raising our daughter and threw it away. I don't know how I'm going to do this.

My hustand’s grandfather was a firefighter during the Blitz in London. He saw things that he would never discuss with his family.

A fellow whose father was also a firefighter in the Blitz recently made a generous donation to the RLNI for a lifeboat to be named for him in the Thames. My in-laws have supported the RLNI for years, and decided to put my husband’s name on the boat (along with other people). The boat will be launched next year.

Since my husband donated his kidneys, he is continuing his lifesaving journey. I’m not sure if I can go out next year for the launching, but I’m happy that folks will see his name.

My wife passed away from breast cancer 18 months ago. We were high school sweethearts. She was there before I had figured out who I was, before life had really begun, and I always thought she'd be there for the rest of it, too.

I never imagined a world where I'd have to learn to live without her. I never even considered it a possibility. She was supposed to grow old with me. We were supposed to have grey hair, complain about getting older, laugh about stupid things that nobody else understood, and look back on a lifetime together. That's what I thought we had ahead of us.

Instead, I'm sitting here 18 months later, trying to figure out how the fuck I'm supposed to carry on in a world that took her from me.

One of the things that hurts the most is how much I was away for work. I keep going back over it in my head. All those days away, all those nights spent somewhere else, all those times I thought there would always be more time when I got home. I told myself I was working for our future. I thought I was doing what I was supposed to do, building a life for us.

And now I would give absolutely anything to have those ordinary days back. I'd give anything to come home to her, to sit beside her doing absolutely nothing, to hear her voice from another room. I'd trade every achievement, every dollar, every fucking thing I've ever worked for just to have one more completely unremarkable day with my wife.

The guilt eats at me because I can't go back and change any of it. I can't get those days back. I can't make up for the time I spent away. I can't tell myself I'll do better next week, or that I'll make more time when things settle down. There is no next week with her. There is no making it up to her.

And we never got to have children.

That is a pain I honestly don't know what to do with sometimes. We were high school sweethearts. We had all these years ahead of us in our minds, all these things we assumed we'd get around to eventually. I thought we'd have children together. I thought I'd watch her become a mother. I thought we'd see little pieces of each other in our kids, watch them grow up, and build a family around the love we'd had since we were young.

We never got that chance.

Sometimes I think about the children we never had, the family that never got to exist, and it fucking destroys me. There are no photographs of them. No birthdays we'll never celebrate. No little faces to look at and see her smile looking back at me. Just this whole life we imagined that will never happen now.

And I don't know how to grieve something that never even got the chance to exist, on top of grieving the person who meant everything to me.

I miss the woman she was, but I also miss the life we were supposed to have. I miss our past, our present, and the future I genuinely believed was waiting for us.

Eighteen months sounds like a long time when you say it out loud. People probably think that by now, things should be getting easier. Some days I can get through the day and almost convince myself I'm managing. Other days, it feels like I'm right back there, and the reality of losing her hits me so hard I can barely comprehend that this is actually my life now.

I still catch myself thinking about telling her something. I still think about what she'd say, what she'd think, how she'd react. And then I remember.

She's not here.

She's never coming home.

I fucking hate that those words are true.

She wasn't just my wife. She was my best friend, my first love, the girl I fell in love with when we were young and stupid enough to think we had all the time in the world. She knew me before so much of life happened. She was woven into practically every version of myself I can remember.

And now I'm supposed to somehow figure out who I am without her.

I don't have some inspiring message about learning to live again. I don't have a happy ending to this story. I have a hole in my life where my wife should be, regrets I can't do anything about, and a future that looks nothing like the one I spent years imagining with her.

I know I can't change the past. I know I can't punish myself forever for the time I spent away or for the things we never got to do. But knowing something intellectually and actually being able to make peace with it are two very different fucking things.

I loved her. I love her still. And I would give anything to have been able to love her for another fifty years.

I just needed to put this somewhere tonight, somewhere people might understand what it feels like to lose not only your wife, but the entire life you thought you were going to share with her.

Eighteen months later, I still miss you girl. And I still can't believe this is the life I have to live without you.

I have more money time and freedom then ever.I also have more depression,anger, sadness and loneliness then ever . I’d rather be nowhere with her than anywhere with anyone. It’s really fucking hard to go on when the only reason is not to bring more trauma to the kids.

I kept reaching for my phone looking for a notification from him. We used to do check in every few hours, every day. Most of the time when I asked back how he was doing he just said ‘not much’ or ‘just laying here’. But he still wanted to check in with me anyways. Not gonna lie I got annoyed sometimes, but now I would give anything to be annoyed again. It’s my 3rd day since he passed.

It has been 595 days since I’ve felt human. In the time since you’ve been gone, the best I could do was wear this plastic mask. It was once second nature to me, as natural as breathing, as I’ve struggled to battle depression for as long as I could remember.

That mask was buried deep in the closet once you came into my life. All the while you were here, I just wore my heart on my sleeve because you made me feel safe and unashamed. Then one day you left this world and left me behind. Once the shock had worn off, I found that mask again, allowing me to blend in with humanity, at least to some degree. It contained a fake smile and enough camouflage to ward off suspicion and avoid a few painful encounters.

The mask did not provide comfort but instead provided a mobile rock to hide behind.

The mask was never designed to be worn for so long. It was only made for time-to-time. It was meant to hide slips and trips so that no one would know I nearly fell. Since you’ve been gone, and since everyone else disappeared, that mask never came off. Those who know me now don’t know me well, so they’ve been none the wiser. This mask is all they’ve seen, so they are blind to how far I’ve fallen.

I’ve worn this mask too long now. It has seen too much of the sun, and as a result, it has been melting. It would seem at this point that it no longer hides a thing. One might as well dot a freckle on their face and call it a disguise. The pain is not hidden. The mask does not shield me from the questions, nor does it provide me with the answers to deflect.

My heart is still on my sleeve. Not because I feel safe but because I am tired. I am too worn to make up a response to ward off concern or suspicion without great effort. “How are you doing?” someone will ask, and I must quickly scramble and work hard to stifle my instinct to reply, “Just fucking kill me.”

I was able to hide behind the mask, but since it has now melted, I’ve been hiding under a rock instead. My only way of masking now is to be neither seen nor heard.

The man behind that mask is more withered away than the mask itself. There is no soul or personality, there is only the void you left behind. What little remained has since rotted away. That man feels nothing now but pain, regret, and dread, and every time he dares show his face, it becomes immediately known.

I can no longer pretend that I am fine or belay the concerns. I can’t even pretend that I am still human. I can only crawl under my rock and wish it were my grave instead.

I don’t wanna get into details right now guys but we’ve been together for 20+ years now. Today I found her gone. We have kids together. I need help or tips guys…

Today is 3 months. I still cry everyday. Things that make me happy are few and far between. All the check-ins have stopped. I’m so alone. All the time. This effing sucks.

My wife (early 20s) died recently in a car crash. One of the hardest parts for me is that I cannot figure out what to feel or even process my own emotions.

I am an all or nothing, clear-cut type person. But I am so emotionally messy right now. There are many contradictory emotions I feel.

On one hand, I want time to rewind. I wish I could turn back the clock and do it all over again with her. Meet her, date her, propose, marry her. I wish I could live in the past. On the other hand, I want time to skip forward. I want to skip the pain and have the fresh wound turn to a scar and move on.

On one hand, I am full of sorrow. I have never been more sad and angry in my life. I don’t know how to get out of bed in the morning. On the other hand, I am profoundly grateful for every second I got to spend with my wife. She was a gift. A blessing. And I am so thankful I (lowly me) got to be her husband.

As I think about the future part of me thinks I could never love another woman because my heart will always belong to my late wife. Another part of me strongly desires to be a loving husband and father.

I don’t know what to do with all of these opposing desires…

Okay, so I’m (36f) trying to figure out how to even approach the dating world, and honestly, I don’t even know what I’m looking for exactly. Maybe it’s not even the dating world I want to enter?

I miss physical touch. I miss affection and just having someone around in that way. But at the same time, I don’t really want to date? Or fall or text for days or hours. I have no interest in going on a bunch of dates, getting into a serious relationship, or playing the field. I have a social life and I’m not looking for someone to add to it.

But I also don’t want random hookups with different people. So what does that even leave me with? lol

I guess ideally I’d like something consistent, someone I’m comfortable with, where there’s attraction and affection but without all the expectations of a relationship. And I don’t even know if that’s a realistic thing to want. Or fair thing to ask of someone. I think if I were in the other side I would hate that someone asked that of me. But maybe it’s not as big of a deal as I think it is.

Then there’s the whole issue of how do you even tell someone that? I want to be honest about what I’m looking for, but I also feel like saying all of this upfront either scares people away or attracts exactly the wrong kind of attention.

And then I wonder if I’m even ready to enter the dating/not dating world at all, or if I just really miss being touched and having that closeness with someone.

I don’t know. I’m kind of thinking out loud here.
Has anyone else been in this weird in-between place? Where did you even start? Dating apps? Meeting people naturally? Is there a way to navigate this without making it more complicated than it needs to be?

My late husband (41m) and I met by happenstance. Between family, friends, and work travel I don’t think that is likely to happen again.

I am very lonely.

Yes, I know I have two children. They are 21 and 19. They are good kids. I love them. But having children doesn't mean I am not lonely.

They seldom talk to me. And yes, I can make the effort. I can ask about their day. I can start a conversation. I can try to spend time with them. But there is a limit to how much you can do a connection between a 51-year-old man and a 19- or 21-year-old.

They have their own lives now. Their own friends. Their own interests. Their own world. And I don't blame them for that. But it leaves me alone.

Because what I lost was never simply someone who lived in the same house.
I lost the person I naturally talked to. The person I could tell the stupidest things and we laughed together. The person who knew what I meant before I finished a sentence. The person who knew when I was tired. The person who knew me without requiring an explanation.

That kind of companionship cannot be replaced by the children. My children are my children. They were never supposed to be my replacement for her .

And perhaps this is something people don't understand about widowhood. They look at me and see a man with two grown children. So they assume I am not alone. But they don't understand the difference between having people in my house and having my wife.

I have our children but I don't have her. 

And there is a loneliness in that which two children, no matter how much I love them, cannot fill.

I am very fucking lonely.

You are still allowed to miss the life you had and still fall in love with the life that found you.

Our relationship consisted so much of cooking and enjoying meals together.

I tried to make Thai curry chicken wings for dinner. I can’t go them. I miss her so much.

I feel so lonely. My whole family is deceased asides from two cousins who live over an hour away. I guess I have my mom… not really. She has Alzheimer’s.

I miss my wife. I’m not going to be ok. I’m not ok.

I am only 2 months out from a tragic unexpected loss of my LH. Together for 18 years, high school sweethearts. Have two very young children and with work, absolutely zero time on my plate. I just can’t believe how much widow’s fire is consuming me. Can anyone talk me off the ledge from reaching out to a trusted single friend before I make things weird forever😅 Thoughts have been consuming me at work, I feel crazy. And I feel guilty for not feeling guilty. Taking care of things myself is not helping. The feeling is constant. I am fairly postpartum and just think maybe my entire nervous system has just been hit by a bus. Anyone not act on these thoughts and eventually had these feelings subside with a little more time?

Just woke up in the early in the morning, and it's eerily silent. I can hear the heaviness of my breathing and feel the pounding in my chest... and all I can think of is that I'm just over two years into this journey. How am I going to get through this?

I'm doing a lot of things to fill my days, sometimes to the point of exhaustion. The longing is so loud. I feel so hollow. Just so empty.

I used to climb mountains, and what I loved most about it was waiting for the sun to rise. I would sit on the grass, watch the sun rise at eye level, and feel the coolness of the air. I loved watching the sky change colors, from deep midnight blue to soft shades of pink, purple, and orange. I miss the stillness, the peace, and the feeling that, when the sun finally rises, there's hope for a new day.

I hope I can regain my strength and one day climb mountains again. The last time I did was with my husband. I won't be able to do it with him again, but I hope to feel that peace once more. After the difficult hike, I hope to experience the beauty of the sunrise again.

Time, it's weird isn't it. It can sometimes feel like it's moving slowly, at a snail's pace or it can fly by.

Six months ago he was home in bed having stomach issues. I was certain he would get better in a couple of days. Six months ago he was napping because his body was depleted from being sick. I was certain he just needed to rest up and stay hydrated. Six months ago he woke up from that nap, saying he couldn't breathe and was sweating. Six months ago I told him "I love you" for the last time. Six months ago I heard his voice for the last time. Six months ago I held his hand for the last time. Six months ago his heart stopped and mine broke into a million pieces.

How has it been six months? Those first few days the kids and I would tell each other "We made it thru the first 24 hours", "We made it thru the first 48 hours", etc. It's now been 4,380 hours.

It's been 2 months since my boyfriend died. I don't feel like anyone checks up on me anymore, and even on the rare occasion someone asks how I am, it never feels like they want to hear all I have to say.

I go to therapy, but it feels like I'm only talking in circles when it comes to grief, and I know there's no solution to it. So now we talk about some of my other problems as well, as there doesn't seem to be anything new we can cover in my grief.

But I really lost all my hope and dreams and illusions of happiness. It's so hard to live. No amount of breathing exercises or thankfulness will ever change that and that's to hard to accept

I couldn't believe it when I realized I am bitterly crying more now- 6 months after losing my Bride Valerie back in April. I felt for a while I was getting thongs together and not tearing up so much at the thought of her, but now it is Much worse than it was before. I have Hope - i know she is in Heaven now and was spared from a life of Agony from her debilitating medical issues. We had 12 truly wonderful years together and I am truly grateful to God for every one of them so why is this hitting me so much Harder now?

He passed on the 9th. Picking up his ashes just made it hurt so bad. Cried so hard I ended up throwing up. And for being such a big guy, the urn hes in feels so small. We came from Seattle to north Carolina to live with one of his brothers. So I didn't have to worry about household bills and stuff. And could just focus on trying to get him better.

Now tomorrow I have to make the 15 hour drive to be with my mom and step dad in Iowa. Try to find work. And start over. I'm absolutely terrified. I just want to crawl in that urn and die. 26 years was not enough. Although I imagine people who had more or less years than that feel the same. He was my cheerleader, protector, best friend. I loved him so completely. I'm so fkn devastated 💔 😢. Big hugs and prayers for all of us in the worst club to be in. May we find peace, good sleep, and the ache in our bodies become less everyday.

I don’t pretend to be smart, I think. But apparently I appear to be so in front of people. Not to him though, he knew the real me, and I never felt judged about it. I could tell him all the deepest darkest secrets, things that’d make anyone sigh and he’d still accept it. Oh you don’t know this extremely common food let’s go get some now. You don’t know how to do this trivial thing? Let me help you.

I’m an actual hermit, I liked spending time in my room alone. I could go days without human contact and be fine. He was the opposite, always friendly to everyone and loves going out. He showed me my first of a lot of things. Last thing we did together was going on the ferris wheel at a fair and we loved it it was my first time. I was holding his hand so tight I was a bit afraid of height and he never judged me on anything. I miss him.

His death anniversary is about 3 weeks, his absence seems to be hitting me now.

Thinking back on a year ago, and now knowing that i only had a few weeks left with him; my heart break for me not knowing what was coming.

I ask myself...would I do anything different. I don't mean to prevent his death, but just the little things.

I should have thrown him that birthday party 1 month before he died... i should have wrote him that love letter...I should have definitely had wayyy more crazy sex🫪......

sighhh...thinking back is tragic.

My boyfriend passed away over 2 years ago, we used to walk at this park close to where I live a lot. I was only with him for 8 months, but it was the most beautiful and happiest time of my adult life, I truly understand what love feels like because of him. I haven’t been here in a little while but it’s like every time I come back here I can feel his spirit and energy and love in the wind and in the atmosphere. I really do think I am actually feeling his spirit and his energy and love because usually when I am anywhere else for the most part I feel like I’ve gotten over the grief of losing him.

Usually when I’m at home or work or anywhere else now that it’s been so long when I think of him I don’t cry or feel that deep and heavy sadness like I used to, but when I came to the park and sat in our spot just now, I felt his energy so much, and I thought of him and I just cried and cried. I miss him so much and he was the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and there’s no one in this world like him. Definitely feels like I’m feeling his energy here, and I also feel safe and protected as well. I miss his hugs so much and I swear when I’m here when the wind blows on me it feels like a hug from him, feels like home. Sometimes I forgot the happiness I used to feel with him because it’s been so long but I can feel it now, he is still with me.