The Lonely Night

Things wind down, and I eventually begin my evening routine. It’s without much purpose, without any preparation for the next day. There aren’t a list of things planned for the next day. In fact, every day feels like a Saturday.

It’s only at night that I’m reminded of my grief -

It’s dark. It’s generally quiet – only the sounds of my husband and son sleeping can be heard. Small amounts of light from appliances fill the room.

The darkness, the silence – it amplifies the emptiness I feel. It’s a mix of loneliness and uncertainty. It’s anxiety and fear. It’s everything that comes from a huge unexpected change.

I worry that this would come day after day. I don’t have a plan. My routines, if any, are different.

What I did do today? What’s the purpose of the things that I will do tomorrow ? What am I going to do tomorrow?

During the day, I can be distracted by other things. Tasks, friends, my son… but here, it’s impossible. The silence feeds my mind. I am reminded that things are changing. I don’t have control. How long will this last ?

Only during these lonely nights do I feel such unease. These nights bring with them such uncertainty. There is no comfort of the old regular schedule. There is only the unknown. The unforeseeable, unpredictable unknown.

One thought on “The Lonely Night

  1. Even in this time of fluctuation,you can still create a schedule for what you hope to accomplish each day. When I had to step back from writing for a while, I found solace in writing out a to do list and keeping a loose schedule for each days activities… Even if it was :Do dishes, go to library, take a walk.



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