I sometimes feel like I'm living two parallel lives. The one where Tim is still alive. The one where the what ifs weren't ifs. The one where I loved only him. And then there's the one that I am in now, without Tim but with my wonderful wife Dee.
This new relationship started about three and a half years after Tim died. Last year Dee and I got married, and we are about to buy a house together.
I still love Tim. I always will. But I also love Dee. And I don't think that's a problem. The way I look at it, is – I have a cat. Dee arrived with two dogs and a cat. I didn't stop loving my cat because new animals arrived – I simply love them all. I am the youngest of five siblings, but my parents didn't say "we can only love the first child", their love expanded for all of us. In the same way, I can love Tim, but I can also love Dee, and my love for her is no less for that. Love isn't like a piece of pie that is cut up into slices, it's infinite like the universe.
I was widowed at 50 when Tim, who I expected would be my happy-ever-after following a marriage break-up, died suddenly from heart failure linked to his type 2 diabetes. Though we'd known each other since our early 20s, we'd been married less than ten years.