Every time I'm in work, at least one person asks me "how are you?" I automatically say "Yeah, I'm fine," but I'm not. What I REALLY want to say is "Actually, I feel as if my heart's been ripped out, kicked about and then turned upside down and inside out and shoved back in my chest cavity." So why don't I? Well, I doubt if people actually want to hear that, they wouldn't understand and some won't even care. People have a limited tolerance for other people's problems, even more so I've found amongst the so called "caring" professions. Instead I put a smile on my face, be "me", and spend my time when I'm not at work being miserable, contemplative, sad, lonely, bereaved, upset, mad, etc. at home alone, surrounded by my memories. I love that man, that Allan Joseph Brigg, that husband of mine. My one REAL chance to share, to grow and to live has been taken from me, and I'm angry, resentful and shocked. We deserved better, Allan and I. We deserved a long life, love and happiness. How am I? Fine thanks...