You think we're fine, they're fine. Your friend who went through a traumatic event is fine. It's been weeks, months or even years. They have to be fine, right? They're doing every day things like cooking dinner, taking care of their children and going to work. They have to be fine. The pain fades, doesn't it? The heartache goes away, doesn't it? They're fine. They have to be fine.
They're not fine. They still worry. They still cry. They still feel afraid of life. They're afraid of everything. Nothing will ever be the same. They go so many nights without sleep or with very little sleep. The future they planned is gone. The life they had is dead. The love they depended on left so suddenly. They're just not fine. They aren't strong. They might be a little brave, because they wear the brave face for you. It's not for themselves that they smile and laugh at silly jokes. They do it for you, so that you think they're fine.
They worry about today, tomorrow and forever. They know now that life is fleeting and it can be snatched away in a split second. They are afraid of living alone. They are afraid of dying unloved. They distance themselves from people, because now - more than ever - intimate relationships of any kind are scary. They can't bare to love and lose again.
They feel defeated. All of the fight has been drained from their bodies - like blood from a corpse. They feel dead on the inside and dead on the outside. They feel like they're on another planet, hovering above the world below - invisible, untraceable, unlovable. If God loved them so little that He could take away someone they loved so dearly, how could they possibly be worth loving?
Life is tasteless, odorless, joyless...just plain LESS. This is what it feels like to lose a spouse. I'm not okay. I'm not fine. I'm not doing well. I'm lost.