And I felt guilty for it.  

I felt like I was betraying her.  

Like I was happy she was gone.  So that I could get the house in order.  And get rid of some things.  And not have to listen for her calling me.  Or be scared that I would upset her in some way.  

But it's not true.  

I'm not happy she is gone.  

I promise you that.  

But I felt bad for floating along in her house.  I feel guilty when I've realized that I have gone an hour without thinking of her.  

I don't want to move on yet.  It's strange.  It's not that I want to feel sad forever.  But I feel like if I start moving forward.... it means I don't miss her anymore.  That I didn't love her as much as I thought.  

I feel like she is close to my heart when I am mourning her.  And I really want to keep her there.  And when I stop...I feel like she will slip away from me.  And I won't remember things.  And I won't feel as deeply for her.  

Ever heard of the five stages of grief?   Tell me, what stage am I in now?  

Grief can't be labeled.  Or put in a nice little box of levels.  

It's messy and weird and strange.  It hurts.  It's confusing.  It comes and goes.

 Even when I want it to stay.