Definitely Dead (Sookie Stackhouse, #6)

by Charlaine Harris

It was time for one of my self-pep talks. I told myself sternly I’d already enjoyed a moment or two of that very evening, and I would enjoy a few more seconds of every day until I built back to my former contented state. I’d always enjoyed life, and I knew I would again. But I was going to have to slog through a lot of bad patches to get there.

I had a moment when the heartache I was staving off just plain ambushed me. It was like the moments I had after my grandmother died, when I’d be doing something familiar like brushing my teeth, and all of a sudden the blackness would overwhelm me. It took a moment or two to collect myself and swim back to the surface again. It would be like that for a while, and I’d just have to grit my teeth and bear it.