Three seconds after her death I was blissfully unaware.

Three minutes and I was still unaware, getting impatient. This is the last feeling I remember.

Three hours and I was numb. Wondering why the tears wouldn’t come, this person who was my life had been wrenched from it. Why did I feel nothing? Shock, they said. This will be the best you feel for some time.

Three days and there was still nothing. My heart was full of absence of what I was supposed to be feeling. I still functioned, but that was all – an automaton following its id.

Three weeks and I felt like a fake. I had to accept condolences from well-wishers with a calculated air of pain, to give the impression I didn’t want to be reminded of it, that it would send me back to a ‘dark place’ I had no experience of.

Three months and I couldn’t bear it any more. Had I not loved her? How could I continue my life without her? How could I bring myself to go on, knowing that I didn’t feel any sense of loss?

Three seconds after that, I finally knew.