I've been using his socks, since I'm perpetually out of socks somehow or other - I always feel like I should have enough hand-knit ones to last me, but of course I don't really. The other clothes I haven't done anything with. I especially haven't moved the towels he used on his last day alive. They smell of soap and his moisturizer and him, and it's comforting to stand and rub my cheek on them and inhale.
I was ready for how hard it would be to do anything with The Clothes. I was not ready for how hard it is to deal with my own clothes. The dress I wore to a party. The pants I bought on a trip to the UK and never wore. The jacket he gave me for Christmas last year. Scarves, shoes, gloves--can I please not remember? or no, really, I do want to remember. It's all part of my life with him, and I want so badly for that to still be my life.
Yesterday was one of the really hard days. Today, not so much. I am only crying a bit today. Bad days, I start crying while I'm in the shower, and go on errands and scream alone in the car, screaming how much I want him back want him back want him back, god damn it. It's wordless, just sobbing and, well, the screaming. I want to both feel better and not let go of feeling shitty. I want to hold tightly to my pain. I do not want to "get over" him. I never did.
I'm still knitting a sock. Very, very slowly, but knitting it. I don't really think I have the mental capacity to design right now (hey, I'm iffy on crossing the room), or figure out the placement of motifs on the sleeves for either the leaf cardigan (for me) or the Dale (for him). Especially the Dale. He was looking forward to wearing it, and the weather is nearly perfect for it. He would have loved today.