My love and companion of 35 years died yesterday. I'm pretty much all alone until I travel 2000 miles to where my family is and where his is.

So I am here in his apartment, where I have lived most of the time, since 2014. I am surrounded by his absence. My grief hurts bad. I expected that. He died here at home in my arms yesterday. He had lung cancer and other serious illnesses as well.

This past week he kept wanting to embrace me. It was so sweet. I must not become depressed. I've been through grief before. Grief honors the person who is mourned. But depression is an evil monster. I can't let it claim me.

I need to take a shower. It's been days. I was so busy caring for him, I didn't find a good time to go in the bathroom long enough to shower. He had delirium. He would call me and panic, if he thought I wasn't here in the apartment with him. By the time he fell asleep at night, I was too exhausted to shower.

So now I can. This is the way to stay sane. To do what I need to do.

Right now my life almost feels like it's worth nothing without him here to love me.

Please, somebody, tell me I'm not alone.

I do have to be alone for awhile, but that's temporary. Please tell me I can get through this.