I couldn't bear the thought of going to bed. The bed would be lonely Besides I'd toss and turn not getting any sleep as I thought about her and the fact that she wasn't there. The thought was hard for me to wrap my head around. I hated the thought and I wished it would go away. I shook off the feeling as best I could and slouched back into the recliner closing my eyes. I was tired, emotionally drained an beside myself in my own quiet grief. The silence was still there, how could it not be. As I sat there in it, I honed in on the sound of my own blood pressure ringing in my ears. ocassionally drifting in awareness between it and my breathing; The clock still ever so mockingly ticking away the length of my loneliness. It was four thirty in the morning. Time seemed to slow as if basking in my sorrows was to become my lot in life. The thought of all I had to do this day aggravated me. There's not a person I've ever met that has lost someone they love that liked having to plan a funeral, call friends and family and organize...