It’s like being in a race against time. It’s been a year and a half without Kevin. In my mind, this breaks down into countless nights, texts, hikes, laughs, moments, hugs and kisses all missing from my memory of 2015. The person I spent everyday with is just gone. How could this be?

No one prepares you for grief. No one possibly could. You don’t understand until it happens to you. You think you do, but you don’t. Family and friends try to understand but as hard as they try they are at a loss, bless their souls. The only way I can think to describe it is like getting knocked over by a tidal wave, being dragged under at any given moment, with absolutely no control on the timing of when the wave chooses to break and how strong it’s current will be.

No one person or thing could prepare you for the way you’ll think, feel, act, and live after you lose someone. No one tells you there are stages of grief and you don’t just stay in one. You bounce back and fourth and no one prepares you for feeling crazy because of it!

No one prepares you for what you’ll see. The decisions you’ll have to make. The images that will burn in your mind that you can’t get rid of no matter how hard you try. No one prepares you for your heart actually aching. For the sleepless nights. The staring off into space for hours having no idea what you’ve been thinking about. The forgetfulness. The feeling of living in fog everywhere you go, just hearing voices all around you. The complete and utter loneliness, the raw emptiness and the harsh reality that this journey is solely a walk alone.

No one prepares you for change. For the people who you thought were your best friends to abandon you at your lowest. For old friends to step in and be there for you more than you ever thought imaginable. For new friends who don’t know your story and the questions they will have. No one prepares you for pushing the people closest to you away. For the anger you’ll have towards them. For the way you’ll lash out. For your lack of motivation, lack of care in everything that you do.

No one prepares you for the surprise you get every morning when you wake up. The surprise being the mood you’re in. There may be no initial trigger. Some days are just harder than others and sometimes you won’t even know why! It could be an anniversary or it could be a random weekday, every day is just different. No one prepares you for your thoughts, your regrets, all the ‘what ifs’, the flashbacks, the dreams, the memories, the photos. Nothing could prepare you for what’s left.

For the mornings where you just can’t move, for days where you break down crying in the middle of Publix because you walked past the salsa you two used to buy for ‘fajita night.’ For car rides meaning tears from point A to point B because some song manages to get to you. For crying at work because the guy whose credit card you just ran’s name is Kevin. For having to navigate your way around town avoiding certain streets because you just can’t handle it. When the fastest route to work means passing where he lived, which almost always lead to stopping, walking where I’d walk the dogs or was that just my excuse to see if anyone had moved in?

No one prepares you for how deep you now look into things, for the signs you will receive, for the moments you just can’t explain, for the feeling that you're not alone in a moment, for a new mindset. For a new life.

No one tells you. Nothing could have prepared you. Every single one of us lives every day thinking, ‘yeah but it’ll never happen to me’ and then it does and somehow you have to get through it. If you are on your own journey of grief, just know there’s no rulebook and at the end of each day, you’ve made an accomplishment! And what I mean by getting through it, is, you have made it through yet another day. It gives new meaning to the phrase "living life one day at a time.”

Hang tight when the waves come crashing in, and know that you’re not the only one learning to surf!