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it took losing my own lover to realize just how profound a loss this is.

for six years, i was viewed through his eyes.  he saw me as beautiful, i was beautiful.  he saw me as a deep thinker, a great mom, and his support and therefore i was all those things.  for six years i practiced my identity through him and because of him.  because of his love, i loved, because of his joy, i was joyful, because of his grief, i grieved.

now i am suddenly lost, confused, at odds with my own being.  a girl, interrupted.  am i this? am i that?  who am i really, now that i am so so lost.

so we do these minute, selfish things to bring ourselves back to par with who they knew us to be.

i bought new clothes to be beautiful, i cut my hair to be adventurous.  it's trivial really.  these small details.  a small stone cast into the ocean as if that will stop the onslaught of the tide.  moving, moving, always moving.  whispering to me "you don't know who you are without him"

i am left here to rebuild.  i have to rebuild, my entire fortress crumbled around me the minute he died.  my identity is gone, stripped away with the loss of my love, the one who knew me to my core and loved me anyway.

of course, i am left reminding myself that the core of who i am is still here.  who he knew remains, the strength, the stamina.  it's here.  born out of fire, born out of ashes.  beyond the trivial, beyond the minute details- the core of who i am remains.  it is he who is gone.  left to the rebuilding of my memory and those who knew him.  the sharp reality of his self forever gone, instead only memories, hazy with the interpretation of my mind remain.  a minute with him would bring it back as sharp as a knife, as consuming as a fire, but the haziness remains.  himself forever left in a fog, a mystery.

it feels as an all consuming fire, eating alive everything in its path.  burn, burn, burn.


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treat it.

to everyone who has never been touched by suicide,

i get it.  i used to be like you too.  here are the most common views of suicide i either heard or personally held growing up:

that person is selfish
that person is crazy
that person is a coward
they wanted to die
they were depressed for a long time and finally went through with it
there are always warning signs, so people know it's coming
that it's preventable

there is this social stigma around depression, suicide, etc.  i can't tell you what it is like to not be able to talk openly about my husband's death.  to see people either openly or privately distance themselves from my pain, search for reasons that he did it beyond the fact that he was ill and we didn't catch it in time, connect dots that aren't connected.  all so they can convince themselves that they will never know the pain, and i honestly hope they don't- but it's possible they will.  i know people whose lives…


to my love,

i hope you know how much i miss you.  the words, of course, fall short.  but there they are, just the same.  i told addy that you and elly can live in our hearts forever, but this of course is a lie.  death is permanent and there is no living to be done once the breathe leaves our bodies.  you are not living on in our hearts, minds, or souls.  there is no living to yet be done for you.  instead we are left with our memories which time will eventually dull.  numbing ourselves to the very sense of you.  it is that way for me with my mom, my memories of her are stunted and few and we had eight years together.

does it bother you to know the only real remembrance your children will have of you is seen through my eyes and my hearts?  the sharp reality of their dad is forever lost to them.

people are trying to instill hope in me in regards to my future.  i know they mean well but it is coming off condescending.  no one but my own being knows my pain.  i am not here…
Dear Cavs,

Our playoff season started the day my five week old daughter, Elly, passed away, twelve days later my husband also died suddenly.
Your road to the finals, so fraught with emotion was also the start of a very difficult, seemingly impossible journey for me.

I started watching at game five... when we were down 3-1, I thought for sure that we would lose that game- when we won, all of a sudden- I cared.  When so many lights had gone out for me there was all of a sudden very small glimmer of hope and dare I say satisfaction possibly ahead.

It would have seemed from the circumstances that I shouldn't care whether we won or lost, so many things in my life didn't hold their meaning anymore- but I did.  I couldn't help it.  The enthusiasm was infectious.  These games gave  me hope.

I watched as you won game five and game six and I'll never forget seeing Kyrie on the bench after six holding up his seven fingers.... Here we go.

I almost regretted getting invested as I …