Living in 2 worlds

July 25, 2026

I wake up every morning into a world that expects me to keep living... while part of my heart never left the day Ryan died.

One world is the one everyone else sees.

The world where I somehow keep going. I answer messages. I run errands. I pay bills. I smile when someone says hello. I do all the things life still demands... even though something in me stopped the day my son died. Even though most days I don't want to keep going at all.

The other world is invisible.

And it's the real one.

It's the world where Ryan still exists in every thought. Every memory. Every song. Every place. I still hear his laugh... that big warm goofy laugh, ... and for one second I forget.

Then I remember. And it flattens me all over again.

It's reaching for my phone, still half expecting one of his random check-in calls. Still expecting a text that comes from nowhere, just to say hi. It's remembering our hugs and realizing my arms will never feel that again.

It's living with one foot in today and the other in a day that won't stop being the worst day of my life.

It's hearing people talk about the future while my mind quietly breaks over the future Ryan doesn't get. No kids. No next phase of his life... the one we were supposed to plan out together.

Those questions never stop. They just sit on my chest like a weight I never get to put down.

It's laughing at something funny... and hating myself for it, because Ryan isn't here to laugh with me.

It's watching families grow while mine is missing a piece that can never be replaced.

It's standing in a room full of people and feeling completely, unbearably alone... because no one else can see the world I'm dragging myself through.

The hardest part is that these two worlds exist at the same time.

Every hour.

Every day.

I learn how to function in one while the other one is quietly killing me.

People think I'm "doing better" because I've gotten good at pretending.

They see me standing.

They don't see what it costs.

Because when your child dies, you don't just lose them.

You start living in two worlds forever.

One where time keeps moving without permission.

And one where you're still standing in that room, hearing the words no parent should ever hear... and you never, ever leave it.