They kept asking me if there was someone they could call for me, but I didn't want to talk anyone, besides I was so far away from home, when we moved here we never thought about how alone I would be if this would ever happen. I left the hospital alone and went back to our house, it was dark and it felt so empty now, even though I was just here alone it seemed more empty now I knew he was never coming home. The emptiness in the house was eating me up, walking around there everyday all alone, sleeping alone our bed felt so big and empty, but for a while his pillow still smelled like him. Everyone told me it was best if I just packed up all his clothes and got rid of them to start the healing process right away, I guess none of them ever lost their husbands. I remember sitting with his parents and mine planning his funeral, they tried to include me in their decisions but eventually found out I wasn't paying attention and gave up. To be honest I wasn't really capable of paying attention to anything, people kept asking me if I needed anything and what they could do for me and what I was thinking about, and all I could was just sit there and stare at nothing, I wasn't even really thinking about anything, I wasn't even crying, I was just sitting there starring like a moron. Lots of people showed up at the funeral, all brought their deepest sympathy, ironic really what was I supposed to do with that? None of that would bring my bear back to me, none of that was going to give me my life back. It's true what they say about knowing who your true friends are in a situation like this, well it's not like lots of them didn't try, but eventually people gave up and only the real close friends kept trying to get me out of my haze. Truth was I didn't want to get out of it. It was my life now, I was just going to stay forever on the couch curled up starring into to void where my husband used to sit and no longer would. A few weeks passed after the funeral and everyone needed to go back to their lives, my parents and my friends were begging me to come back to New York, and to be honest I got it, there was nothing left for me here, but I was too exhausted to think about moving anywhere. Even more time passed, and people started to disappear with their sympathy and started to tell me it was time to move on, time to go out, time to get back to my life. None of them understood I didn't have any life. I hadn't left the house since the funeral a month ago when suddenly I felt something in my stomach, it hurt and I fell to the ground thankfully my best friend Sophie hadn't left my side yet, as the only one, so she could help me go to the hospital. I started to wonder if I was dying from a broken heart, I remember looking out of the window in the hospital room imagining if he would be up there waiting for me now, taking me with him, thinking I was ready, thinking it was time for me to go, I had nothing else to life for. But then fate gave me something to life for, when the doctor came and told me that what I had been feeling in my stomach was you, before my Matt left me he gave me something to always have with me to remember him, he gave me you …
