Touched
I was dreading that day, Theresa's birthday. She would have been 48 years old on this day. It set my mood to a pretty low point today. I'm not ashamed to say I called my mom after my workout, to talk about this date. She had forgotten, and apologized.
I told her it was no need; she had been going through her own problems with her dog having seizures lately.
In his natural habitat, usually 1-2 feet away from me - and requires constant touching. Spooning anything - walls, desks, lamps, shelves... this kitty will spoon anything.
I was sitting alone in my office, looking at my phone. I usually browse /r/widowers from work. I look up and it's a female colleague from another department. Let's call her Sara. I remember talking to her 3 years ago when her father died.She had a technical question which I answered and then she asked me how I was doing. Then she came a bit closer into the office.
I told her I was doing ok. My time lately has been spent slowly going through Theresa's old clothes, putting in bags, going through old documents, boxes from years together. 'That sounds difficult' she said. I agreed. I told her the truth, it took me 6 weeks before I could come home and not cry as soon as my foot crossed the doorway to my apartment. But I am doing better. I showed her a picture of my cat, Kitty.
I showed her pictures of Theresa when she was in much better health. I told her, not many people come by my office anymore... they kinda look straight and walk quickly past it. All while talking to Sarah she kept strong eye contact with me. Wait. Why hadn't I noticed this before? She is holding me eyes. "I want you to know if you ever want to chat over coffee, let me know". Her eye contact was so strong. I believed her. and she went back to her office.
I told her it was no need; she had been going through her own problems with her dog having seizures lately.
In his natural habitat, usually 1-2 feet away from me - and requires constant touching. Spooning anything - walls, desks, lamps, shelves... this kitty will spoon anything.
I was sitting alone in my office, looking at my phone. I usually browse /r/widowers from work. I look up and it's a female colleague from another department. Let's call her Sara. I remember talking to her 3 years ago when her father died.She had a technical question which I answered and then she asked me how I was doing. Then she came a bit closer into the office.
I told her I was doing ok. My time lately has been spent slowly going through Theresa's old clothes, putting in bags, going through old documents, boxes from years together. 'That sounds difficult' she said. I agreed. I told her the truth, it took me 6 weeks before I could come home and not cry as soon as my foot crossed the doorway to my apartment. But I am doing better. I showed her a picture of my cat, Kitty.
I showed her pictures of Theresa when she was in much better health. I told her, not many people come by my office anymore... they kinda look straight and walk quickly past it. All while talking to Sarah she kept strong eye contact with me. Wait. Why hadn't I noticed this before? She is holding me eyes. "I want you to know if you ever want to chat over coffee, let me know". Her eye contact was so strong. I believed her. and she went back to her office.
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