Not nearly there.

Suddenly, I am so tired.

Suddenly, I have so had enough of all of this.

I will pick myself up, and I will carry on, and I will do what needs to be done and I will do it with love and pride in the man of my dreams, but just for a moment, I need to fall down.

I need to grieve, not for the man who has gone, because I will never grieve his death. I saw him. I know his injuries, and I am glad he died because he would have had no life to live. I have his helmet and his leathers in my shed, and I know that all that could be done was done, and that his death was a blessing after the accident.

I cannot grieve the accident, because they happen. Since he died, two weeks ago tomorrow, more boys have died in the sunny lands, more people have died on the roads, more families grieve like ours, ripped apart.

I grieve the dreams, the hopes and plans. I grieve the children we wanted to have, the wedding we wanted, the family life we planned, I hear his voice saying "I promise all that too!" when we watched the milk advert, and I know the love and pride he had in the AC. I grieve the certificates he'll never see the AC get, the nativity plays he'll miss, the buying of the Big School uniform, the exam results, the passing out parade and the marriage and grandchildren he'll never see the AC have.

I grieve the Landy's we'll never fix, the off roading we'll never do, the meals I won't cook and the cakes I won't bake. The clothes I won't mend, the fingers I won't plaster, the spanners I won't hand.

I grieve the intimacy, the rightness, the completeness we had.

So right now, I'm not nearly there.

But we may be a thousand miles apart, he'll be with me, wherever we are.