Who am I?

I am heavy hearted, sometimes my breathe catches in my throat as I fight the tears.

Away for five days, wonderful being with family, my granddaughter makes my soul sing, but within a heartbeat I am lost again without Franco... 

I must always be so ... with mundane bits and pieces and rubbish; at every turn is some non-sense I want to (need to), share with Franco.

Yet he was always interested in what crapola I had to say, albeit something of nothing, usually.

I felt the whole time I have been away from home that Franco is at home actually; and I am bereft not being able to contact him on touchdown at an airport, a messenger message or text, followed by the (always) phone call back when I'm on the coach or train, usually both...Franco filling me in on his journey back from Málaga airport, Pippa looking for me when he came in... Just the normal, just the mundane, just the love...

And at bed time, waking up time, all the... times...

The loss is real, it's physical, it's breaking me, heart body and soul...

How do people survive this?

I feel like I am me but not me anymore, the greater part has gone, changed, left this! what is the 'this' I now am? I don't know me anymore.

I've got a pain in my throat now as I fight back unshed tears, sitting here in departure lounge, with hundreds of people, many of whom don't know how lucky they are.