I slept really late yesterday and so did Chloe. I had a lot of articles due yesterday and just didn’t get them done. I explained the circumstances and I hope I’ll get more time. I’m sure I will unless I just can’t write them.

We’re still moving ahead with our plans to move to Denton. But a lot of that is really contingent upon getting the life insurance, which the more I read about the company, the more scared I am that I might not get it or they might deny me getting the full amount.

We may even try to move by the time the fall semester starts. Dylan is really reconsidering whether or not he wants to go back to A&M this semester after all. He has to decide soon because classes start next Monday.

The alternative option of living at home and going to UNT looks a lot better when he considers the fact that living in Denton wouldn’t give him much of a commute and he could save the expense of borrowing money for his housing. He could graduate college with very, very little debt.

But of course, he has to consider the friends he’s already made at A&M and the fact that their engineering program is considered better.

Meanwhile, I am in kind of a state of unreality so far, to the point that it really worries me. I’m still mostly numb. Shouldn’t the grief be hitting me a lot harder right now?

Is the fact that I’m not grieving harder just a sign of how deep my denial is? Does it mean that I didn’t really love J as much as I thought I did? Furthermore, did he really feel like I loved him? I really hope he did. And I really hope my numbness and denial are just temporary, that eventually my real grief will kick in and be as unbearable as I expected.

On the other hand, I also did a whole lot of anticipatory grieving. My psych last week said that she had a similar experience with a loved one and the fairly extreme amount of anticipatory grieving she did before the person died did seem to lessen it after the fact.

So maybe I’m not a total sociopath. Maybe I did really love him as much as I thought I did. And a bigger wave of grief may still be coming.

For now, as guilty as I feel about “grieving wrong,” I mostly just feel relief that he’s not suffering anymore. The past months—really, ever since his surgery last February—were really hard on him. And they were really hard on me, too, because there was so little I could do to help him.

I’m really just so relieved that he’s not suffering anymore but I don’t know if that’s the wrong way to feel.

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