My husband passed away last year, and since then, life has felt like a long, endless winter. The house that once echoed with laughter and conversation is now filled with silence. My children live abroad, building their own lives in places far away from here. I tell myself I should be happy for them, that they are chasing their dreams, just as I once encouraged them to. But the truth is, I feel utterly alone.

Every morning, I wake up to an empty bed, reaching instinctively for someone who is no longer there. The routine of my life hasn’t changed—I still go to school, still teach my students, still put on a brave face for the world. But inside, there’s a hollow ache that refuses to leave. I pour my heart into my work, trying to find purpose in shaping young minds, yet when the day ends and I return home, the loneliness settles back in, heavier than before.

I never imagined this chapter of my life would look like this. I thought we’d grow old together, that even as our children moved away, we’d still have each other. But now, I have to navigate this world alone, trying to figure out how to fill the empty spaces his absence left behind.

Some days, I feel strong, telling myself I’ll get through this. Other days, the weight of solitude crushes me, and I wonder—how do I keep moving forward when the life I knew is gone?