i found out two weeks ago that my husband’s cancer is not just bad, it is the kind of bad where doctors lower their voices before they say anything. we have been married three years, which sounds like a tiny number when someone starts talking about “weeks” like they are coins in a jar. he has a dangerous cancer, almost at the final phase, and everyone is being careful with their words, which somehow makes it worse. nobody says “he is leaving soon” out loud, but it sits in the room anyway. i recieve updates, nod, ask practical stuff, then cry in the parking lot until my face feels like it belongs to somebody else. i keep wondering why crying gives you a headache, because mine is constant now. it feels like my skull is packed too tight, like my brain is pushing on the walls and my head will explode.

he is still himself in little ways, which is sweet and awful at the same time. he complains about hospital food, tells me my driving is still scary, and asks me to stop hovering like a weird little security guard. i laugh when he says it, but then i go to the bathroom and cry again, because laughing feels almost rude when the ending is standing right there. we are spending these last weeks together while we can, doing basic things, not dramatic movie stuff. we sit on the couch, watch dumb shows, argue about what to eat, and sometimes just hold hands without talking. i am definately grateful for that, even if it hurts. there is no villain here, not really. the doctors are doing what they can, his body is just tired, and i am trying to not make every second about my panic. still, i cry alot, and every cry leaves pressure behind my eyes like a bill i have to pay.

the headache is starting to feel like a second person in the marriage, just sitting between us. i drink water, take medicine when i can, put cold towels on my forehead, and tell myself this is normal. maybe it is. maybe crying this much just dries you out, tightens your face, messes with your sleep, and turns grief into pain you can point at. does this happen to your too, where the sadness stops being just emotional and becomes this heavy physical thing? i don’t want pity exactly. i know people go through worse, and i know my husband is the one actually sick, not me. but being the person watching is its own kind of damage. i love him, i am scared, i am tired, and i keep wiping my face so he does not have to spend his last weeks watching me fall apart;

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