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your daughter (our) is the one to hold me through my tears.  it is getting harder and harder to cry.  there is still so much numb.  it's like looking at pictures of a different family, a different girl.  sometimes i wish i had physical scars from what i went through, just so i could see it.  so much changed and yet nothing (everything) looks the same.

it should be your arms holding me, your voice whispering that we are ok that i am ok, that it wasn't our fault (my), your kisses bringing me back down to sanity.

from the moment i met you i felt safe.  i had been through so much in the past year in relation to guys and then all of a sudden, you popped up, and no matter what i said or did or how i acted, you just stayed and stayed and stayed, you proved yourself over and over in the beginning.  and i felt safe.

i gave you my heart for safekeeping - only letting it out when we had children, each of whom have a piece tucked inside of them.  and now, now i only have two pieces remaining.  the rest torn asunder.  how could i have been so foolish, so naive.  why is there no safety zone?

in my hour of darkest need, you disappeared, the biggest storm, you did not weather.  choosing instead, to leave it to me.  do you know how jealous i get sometimes?  the very real thought that if i had any inkling to your actions, i would have beaten you to the punch on it.  we NEEDED you, i NEED you now.  i miss your voice, your touch, your humor, i miss talking to you and hearing you bitch, i miss our communication and being known so intimately that no words are needed, my home, my soul's home, disappeared right along with you.

you were supposed to be my future.  i remember one time driving back home from baltimore we saw an old couple at mcdonalds, eating breakfast together.  i don't even remember if i mentioned it to you, but i knew that would be us.  i (we) had put so much effort and time and energy into us, into our future.  and we had it, this brilliant, glittering realization of effort, the five of us.  and then... and then... and then..

now you are my past, something to be explained and processed and defended.  now you remain a mystery that i can never solve, addy keeps asking me when we are going to die like you and elly.  wish i knew, wish i had the words to explain to her, wish you wouldn't have folded up your sails.

do you know how much i want to fold into the current, how badly i want to put down my oar and rest, how HARD this is for me.  i have tasted the bitter, is the sweet ruined forever?  everything now seems to be rotting.

there is no good, there is no good, there is no good.
one memory pops up quite a bit, it really is more of a mash of our time together.  laying on our bed, me on your chest, windows open.  looking out into the world, knowing i was safe, knowing i was home.
i am forever undone.

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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
THAT IT WOULDN'T AFFECT ME


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…

dreams.

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.miss.you.  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 …