Grief holds me close

Dear Phoenix,
Grief still holds me close. Last night felt like the night after J. left. The grief felt insurmountable, so I just let it take me. Again. And today, Grief is still there, in the wings. When I get too still, too quiet, Grief is there. She is there in the emptiness of the pantry and silverware drawer. She is there in the gaping empty room that once belonged exclusively to J. She is there in the way I do certain things that J. taught me because they are efficient and mindful of living with someone else. Grief is there when I remember I never wanted to live alone again. I never thought I would. Grief is there when I long for J.'s voice inside these walls.
I miss her, Phoenix. I miss J. How much change am I to bear? How much loss?

I have nothing inspiring to write tonight. One thing i do sometimes let in is that I have survived through the loss of you, irreplaceable you. Though, then I follow up with the next thought of: maybe I was able to do that because I had J. in my life. Now what? No Phoenix. No J. What a damn mess. I am terribly lonely.
Me