It was quiet out. And barren. I could hear nothing but the steps of my feet, the beating of my heart and my rhythmic breath. In, out. In, out. I was used to this feeling. Every morning I would wake up out of bed regardless of the weight that overwhelmed my mind and body, and go for a run. It made me feel free. It was as if I was a butterfly being carried by the gentle breeze that surrounded me. I checked my watch after being lost in this feeling. It had been 40 minutes. Realizing I had work soon, I quickly ended my run and started heading home. Once I arrived,  I took off my running shoes and put them next to my husband's, as I had done for the last three years.

I then made myself breakfast. It was the usual; oatmeal with an assortment of fruits and a cup of coffee. I used to hate oatmeal but it’s my husband's favorite, and I’ve since grown a liking to it.The rest of my day went by fast. I got ready for work and clocked in at Kaiser Permanente. It was a bittersweet job. I spent my day saving patients and leaving their families with a happy heart just to come home to an empty house because my husband couldn't be saved. He had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

He used to love running. Every morning he would wake up at 6am for a jog around the neighborhood. He had been on a run one day when he suddenly collapsed. Someone nearby had called 911 and he was immediately picked up by an ambulance. He never made it to the hospital. The morning after he passed, I had decided to go for a run for the first time in a long while. In a sense, it made me feel like he was still here with me. It was as if I could feel him running right beside me.

It was 8pm when I clocked out and came home. Exhausted, I took a shower and ate dinner while watching NCIS. It was my husband’s favorite show. At around 10, my eyelids started feeling heavy so I went to bed with hopes of getting some much needed sleep.

Every night I would go to sleep feeling numb. My mind and body would ache from the weight of living. From having to sleep in an empty bed where my husband used to lay. To wearing a ring knowing it symbolizes a marriage that no longer exists. And then I sleep. It's a long and dreamless one. The tranquility consumes me until 6am, where I wake and put on my running shoes. Because even in death, feeling his presence is still the only thing worth waking up for.