Dreams.

I keep having these dreams now.

One day I have a dream where Brad calls me and he is still alive, just horribly injured after the accident so he will not see anyone and just wants everyone to think he did not survive.

The second we are getting married on a Wednesday and I am going around preparing, getting things together, but telling everyone I am not sure he will go ahead with it because he is so injured after the accident and does not want to be seen.

I wake up thinking it is all okay and just a misunderstanding and I can call him now and at least we will talk even if I cannot see him.

I miss his voice.

There is an ad that plays on VOCM in the mornings when I am listening to Open Line that says the first thing you forget about someone is their voice.

It plays a voicemail over and over and over.

It is sponsored by MADD.

How fitting.

I listen to his voicemail over and over and over.

"This is Brad. I can't come to the phone right now."

And for a second I almost leave him a message like I used to, telling his to get his ass home because supper is waiting and I am waiting and I just want to kiss his face off.

And he would usually call the second he got it and say, "Hi there."

Hi.

"What are you doing?"

Missing you.

And I guess nothing has changed because in your absence I am missing you.

It is Wednesday.

You should be on a soccer executive board call if soccer is over.

Is it over now?

I don't even know.

If it isn't you would be driving back home with Colton and I would be asking you to pick a Hello Fresh meal and have it waiting when you got home.

I got a renewal request from Hello Fresh yesterday.

They can't understand why I canceled.

Because you died.

And I don't need to eat much anymore beyond something meagre to keep me alive.

My new appliances are sitting in the living room.

I know we would still be looking for people to help move them but we would be doing it together.

Trying to install the microwave together.

Picking out colours together.

Your sister is getting married this week.

You were going to walk her down the aisle because your dad can't but now you can't and I can't imagine how that feels.

I could not wait to see all of your friends and to have so much fun with you.

But now you won't be there and I won't be there because I'm no longer invited.

I think I have cried more this week than I have in a while.

They warn you about the secondary losses.

And I am just tired.

I sleep - medicated sleep - last night for 10 hours - but I am never rested.

How can I be rested when you were my restful place?

You were the place where I could be comfortable and know there was never anything you wanted me to change or anything you were not proud of.

I keep trying to make you proud but that is getting harder as my will gets lower.

I feel so tired and defeated.

I know grief comes in waves and this is likely just one more tsunami without a name that I must, as my dad would tell me he did with every boat in a storm, turn my back to it and jog it out, but sometimes it feels so overwhelming.

I miss you and I just don't know what to do about that.

So I will go now.

I will go, turn on the TV, cuddle with Stanley and tell him about you.

And I just wait for the quiet.

Where I can remember your voice and miss it and that smile you would give me every night as you said, "Nite nite."

"But listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness,

Like a heartbeat, drives you mad.

In the stillness of remembering what you had.

And what you lost."