**Diary Entry**
Ive just gone through my second divorce and decided relationships arent for me anymore. I didnt want anyone close, deliberately making myself as unapproachable as possible. Maybe I was trying to shield myself from emotional risks. But then I met her. She left an unforgettable impression. From that evening on, we were together, and neither of us could have imagined how profoundly our lives would change.
We spent seventeen years side by side. She wasnt just my wifeshe was my best friend. Her energy, wit, strength, and kindness amazed me every day. She was always there, supporting me through every hardship, knowing exactly how to lift my spirits in the darkest moments. We laughed together, dreamed of the future, and built little traditions that became part of who we were.
When the doctors diagnosed her with cancer, we knew the fight would be brutal. She battled for eighteen monthsbravely, stubbornly, never breaking. But the disease was too aggressive. We lost her three months ago. The wound is still fresh, aching in my heart every day.
What keeps me afloat is our child. Were incredibly close, and its through them I find the strength not to drown in grief. Being a parent is a giftone that grounds me, stops me from sinking into despair. When I see their smile, their wonder at the world, their quiet trust in me, I remember my life still has meaning.
From the moment it became clear she wouldnt stay, I tried to prepare myself for the loss. I imagined how Id manage alone, how Id cope without her. You can brace yourself for the big moments, but its the small, everyday things that remind you theyre gone.
Simple, almost silly things. Like how we always watched *Antiques Roadshow* together on Sundays. Wed sit on the sofa, guessing the value of each item, laughing over our terrible estimates. Now I watch it alone, and the silence beside me is unbearable. Even the simplest moments feel hollow without her.
Then theres bedtime. You can hug a dozen pillows, try to recreate the comfort, but nothing replaces real love, the warmth of her presence. Sometimes, just the empty space beside me aches like a physical pain.
Yet I keep going. Im learning to find joy in little thingsour childs laughter, quiet walks, the small rituals Ive made to feel her near. I hold onto our memories, our lovereal and fiercethat still gives me strength to move forward.
Being a parent is my purpose now, my anchor. Their hugs, their curiosity, the way they see the worldits what keeps me standing, even when my heart breaks. Ive learned to cherish each day, knowing loss can come without warning.
I never thought Id survive this. But my love for our child, my memories of her, the life we builtthey make me stronger. Life doesnt end with the ones we lose. It continues in what we pass on, how we love, how we remember.
Even on the hardest days, I find strength. Because our love hasnt vanished. Its just changed formin our child, in the quiet moments, in the music of a heart that wont forget. And thats what gives me hope to keep living, holding onto what was real.
