I have debated on whether or not to post this for a few days, and I am not completely sure why I am, I think I'm looking for a way to vent my feelings and still remain somewhat anonymous, or possibly I just want the world to know.

On December 23rd, my wife, Annie, died very unexpectedly. I came home from work, and found her in our bed. Annie did have medical problems; chronic back pain from cancer surgery, and seizures, which no doctor or specialist was able to determine the source of. Her autopsy has still not come back, so I don't know the cause of death yet.

Annie and I were together for over 10 years, and married for almost five. She was my partner, lover, supporter...she was my everything. She was the one person in the world who accepted me unconditionally. We had the same beliefs and ideals, and through the years we saw some very good times, and some very bad ones, and we always stuck together. From day one, we had a closeness that I think very few experience, and I was aware of that, and never took her for granted.

Now I've lost her. I have gone through feeling like I was under water all the time, not knowing what to do, and a thousand other shades of grief, sadness and despair. They say there are five stages of grief, but what they don't say is that you experience them all at the same time, minute by minute. I can be fine one minute, and then one line from a song, or the image of a woman lying face down on a tv program(you'd be suprised how often they occur), and I'm in tears.

I've gone through her things, looking for I don't know what, some connection to her that I want to feel. For days, when I did manage to sleep, I kept a pile of her clothes on the bed next to me.

It's been a month now. I visited her grave yesterday, and oddly, felt a little better, and I have great friends that have gone out of their way to watch out for me, get me out of the house, and otherwise support me in any way they can. In that, I am blessed, and I see them all on a different level now.

Our children, her two daughters, and my two sons, took it hard, but are adjusting, except her oldest daughter(18), who is still in a bad way about it.

People ask how I'm doing, and I say "ok", but the truth is, it hurts. I think about her every day, and dream about her. In my dreams, she is still alive, still with me, and everything is normal. Sometimes something will happen at work, or I'll see something interesting, and think I need to tell her about it, then, just as quick, the realization comes.

I know I can only take this one day at a time, and I know it will take as long as it takes to adjust to being with out her, to being alone. For so long I always thought of "me" as "we". The two were the same to me, and now it's like I have to grow into my own skin again, become myself alone again, and I just have to give it time and let it happen.