I wish that were a joke title that leads in to some funny story about a misplaced spouse, but it’s not. My husband, light of my life, my soulmate, my sun and stars, had a stroke on May 28 and he died on June 6. I’m 34. He was 40.

I feel like everything should have come to a crashing halt, but it hasn’t. We’d been trying for #2, and as awful as it sounds, I can’t say I didn’t cry when I started my period after he died. I was hoping by some small chance, I’d have another part of him still in the world since he is not.

My emotions are everywhere. Angry at myself for making myself crazy with the what ifs, angry with him for leaving me and our 2 year old… but mostly I just feel empty. I know I have reason to pull it together, but most days I just don’t want to. It’s not supposed to be like this. How is this even real? Can I pinch myself and wake up from this nightmare yet? Please?

I’m comforted by the fact that our last words to each other before the stroke were me telling him how much I loved him. We had plans to go fishing, just the two of us, and he was excited about it. I was too. He was helping me work on the truck, but he said he felt like taking a break so we went inside and 30 minutes later, he was in an ambulance, on his way to the hospital and the ICU… and he’d never come home.

I miss him so much.