Today I turn the age he was. Is. Always will be.
Its strange to think of us as the same age. In my mind, he will always be the older of the two....
I couldn't help but start to think how he was the lucky one. How he will never have to experience days like today. How I wish him and I could change places.... How I would never wish such pain on someone else... How I wish we had died together.
On the day of my birth, I am sitting here thinking of the day I will die. Just like every other day. Death surrounds me. It is my constant companion.
The calendar frustrates me. Confuses me. Angers me. Time is supposed to stop when your spouse dies. When your life ends. You're not supposed to get older, because they never will. And you're definitely not supposed to get older than them.
But here I am, still living. Still marking the passage of time, the passing of years. Going out to do my best to celebrate a milestone I never thought would come. At least not so soon. Because we didn't die. I didn't die. And so I grow as old as him. And will grow older than him.
Without him....
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