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My husband died today

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My dog has definite triggers. We had the doorbell issue the other day, well tonight after a good day and night, he was curled up snoozing in front of the tv and a doorbell rang on tv, this poor dog from a dead sleep barked, then howled and sprang to his feet, shaking and completely panicked.

I had to grab him and sit beside him until he was calm enough to lie down again. The only thing is, I was also afraid because his bark startled me - this dog has not made a peep the whole time he's been here - and as I got to the floor to sit next to him realized I wasn't even sure that he wouldn't bite me. He didn't but that single episode almost erased a weeks worth of trust building. He wouldn't come up to bed, he would not move from his little bed in the living room. I had to coax him with treats. He's very insecure right now.

I laid with him for a while until he settled but like my sister was with me after my husband died, she came in and began petting him while leaning over him; you could just see the fear returning to his eyes. She seems to think you treat trauma reactions with "smothering" love; she's totally unaware of her negative postural cues. I told her to just let him settle, dogs don't understand petting, it's calming for us, not necessarily for them. I just needed the environment to go quiet and calm but she kept wanting to speak to him or "awww poor baby" him. He's settling somewhat now, I'm hoping he can sleep. Uggh, trauma, yes, pup I know it well, you're going to be okay.

A FB acquaintance who found her husband after his suicide a few months ago reported that she feels like her mind is racing but her body doesn't seem to have enough energy to keep up. Sound familiar anyone? Ha,ha, should I say everyone? Insomnia, easily startled, mind racing, exhaustion, easily overwhelmed by the smallest things? The vast majority of spouses of suicide will develop PTSD because of witnessing or discovering the suicide.

I did neither, so thank you husband for sparing me that additional trauma notch on my belt, I don't think I would have survived.

Hey fate? Did I almost screw up that plan? Why did I not pull down that street having caught the color of the car out of the corner of my eye? What made me say forcefully to myself, "huh, they musta got a speeder." What made me not look in my rear view mirror?

Fate. It's the only answer I have. Fate has always seemed to look out for me, although taking my husband from me? Not a nice move. What was that? Payback for all the times things went in my favor? I'd like to reverse that payback please.

I was on the deck today sipping my coffee and thought how I used to do that without my hubby, he wasn't an outside guy. My cousin didn't call him House Cat for nothing. I imagined a "regular" summer day for us. I'd finish my coffee, go inside, deposit my cup on the table and come up behind him seated on the couch. I'd cup my hand on the back of his head, softly caressing the velvet of his clipped hair, then I'd swoop down in his face and kiss him. I closed my eyes and I could almost feel it as if it was real. I think it was a sad realization that this will never happen ever again. I wish I could bottle those feelings and pull them out most when I need them.

I loved that man like I've never loved anyone in my whole life. I miss him so much right now.
 
My dog has been through trauma! He made the 1hr drive to the park today without incident, he was excited to get out of the car. We went "snoopy" for a good 20 minutes checking out the parking lot while my sister went to use the facilities but as we investigated an area around a garbage bin he suddenly startled and began full out panicking. He went wild dog on me, backing away, pulling, trying to get out of his collar. His eyes were pure terror.

It had to be a scent or something because there was no nearby people or noise. This came out of nowhere. It took every ounce of my being to reel him in and make him stand still against my leg. The next 20min it happened twice more and at one point he didn't know who I was and my sister took it personally that he was afraid of her.

We had to cut our trip short and he was much more comfortable in the car. He's still startling but not as intensely. I told my sister that we still have to do evening walks but the rest of the day is quiet time, we only touch him or interact with him when he invites it.

I keep seeing the terror in his eyes absolutely unmistakable. It reminded me of how I looked in my husband's eyes the night before he died and I saw both sadness and fear. It made no sense at the time, only after did it "all fall into place".

I don't know if my hubby would have been able to deal with a PTSD dog in addition to me. One incident and we're both exhausted right now. I need quiet time but we still have to do evening walks, uggh.

Anyone dealt with a PTSD afflicted dog before? Any clue on "dog speak" behaviors?

Wonder if hubby would have known...
 
My dog has a few quirks that suggest trauma in his past. (The new guy, off the reservation, that is.) When we took the Canine Good Citizen class, she used clicker training. Turns out my dog is afraid of clickers. REALLY afraid. We didn't use one in class after the first night, and he eventually got so he could stay focused on what we were doing if he heard the sound from other people. Unfortunately, he also seems to be afraid of being called. He's asleep at my feet right now. He gets upset if I leave a room without him. But, when I call him, he glances at me, the ducks down, looks away, and runs. We've been working on that. (He likes cheap hot dogs! Sometimes a good bribe helps.)

My theory is, like with people, you don't want to take it personally, because it's not. And you don't want to do anything that could be interpreted as punishing them for being afraid. But, the woman who taught the dog class said you also don't want to make a big deal out of comforting them or it might be interpreted by the dog as being rewarded for acting that way and you'll encourage the fear response. You can be supportive. You should stay calm (if you can). And you should avoid getting caught up in what ever their drama is. This guy has made noticeable progress in the 6 months I've had him, but he's got a ways to go yet.
 
I found myself suddenly crying over dinner today. Second time in a week. My sister came over and rubbed my arm - ahhh, it's almost happening again.

I'm missing my husband really bad today. I'm tired because I spent half the night worrying about the dog. I'm exhausted, worrying about the dog.

I really needed a day off to just lay on the couch and do nothing but after waking up to walk / feed the dog my sister got up and complained how she'd been awake since 3am....join the crowd, at least she got to stay in bed until 830!

The "I'm exhausted " competition started after that with her lying on the couch and promptly falling asleep for almost two hours. The dog fell asleep and I sat at the kitchen table wondering why the hell I didn't just lay on the floor beside the dog.

I missed my hubby. I wanted to have him sitting on the couch and holding his arm up for me to crawl into for a nap.

I didn't get to nap at all, every time I tried my sister talked or made noise. By dinner I was done and emotionally overwhelmed.

I kept looking out the back window at the sky and thinking, "Where are you? I need you here."

I miss him so much. Dog or no dog, I will miss him just as intensely; it doesn't make it better or easier. The dog gets afraid of me when I cry. I can't help but cry sometimes. I need my quiet alone time again.

My volunteer hours are falling by the wayside. I was going to go today and leave the dog with my sister but she said, "He doesn't like me. All he's going to do is sit at the door waiting for you and give me dirty looks. He's bringing back my fear of dogs." Arrrrgghhhh!

Hubby isn't here to mediate anymore. I love this dog but I feel like my freedom has just been taken away. It's a lot for me to handle.

There's no more voice of reason. There's no more cheering squad of one. There are no more calming words of encouragement. Instead I have someone who takes the dogs fear of her personally. She's imposing and overwhelming, especially when you're traumatized.

It makes me wonder too if husband would have been able to stand the dog. He was quite irritable in his last few months. Would I have taken the brunt of that?

He used to say, "You don't love me anymore anyway." And I always felt hurt by that, especially since everything I did, I did for him. I made the effort to maintain our intimacy, I told him several times a day that I loved him. No one in this world was loved more than that man! It hurt every time he said it, like a dagger in my heart. I could never tell if he was joking.

Hidden depression.

Sometimes it's best not to poke the bear, even when he manufactures a situation where you're tempted to poke him. I always tried to deflect or ignore his attempts to instigate something in those last few months but each stab hurt just the same.

I resented him a lot. I feel guilt about that still. I bitched every day in my diary about him. I was feeling unsupported by him. He was distancing himself from me more and more; treating me like a coworker, stupid and insignificant. There were days I could not stand him. I fantasized about someone else, something "better" - there was never going to be anything better. He was my One.

And my One decided his life wasn't worth living anymore, not even with me in it - I wasn't worth it.

I miss him so much today.
 
Some days I just wish this inner sadness would just go away. So many times today I held back tears.

This evening we were taking the dog out for a walk and my neighbor saw him and came over to say hi. He was chatting and then asked the inevitable "Are you doing okay?" You know I wanted to start crying, completely fall apart and say no but I took the deep breath and said, "I'm okay." And then looked at the ground. He looked at me closer and said, "You sure?" I just shrugged and deflected back to the dog, "He's a good distraction."

What would they do if I said No? What could they do? I hate crying silently & pretending I'm better than I used to be. I'm not better. I won't be better ever again. I can't be better without my husband.

I remarked to my sister when we were driving earlier that "I wonder when I'll stop remembering only the bad things about him. When will I get to remember him fondly?" Damn near went into full out sobs while driving.

I went to the doctor the other day and she wanted to do a full physical, "strip and hop up on the table." I just did it out of habit. As she finished she said, "We'll keep doing them regularly anyway, in case you get a boyfriend." I told her, "Uhh, no, that's not ever going to happen."

A boyfriend? Seriously? People think that six months is supposed to be some moving on mark or something? I guess for them it was so long ago but for me it was still just last week. It's still a disbelief. I still can't fully digest it. It still makes no sense.

He's gone. He shot himself. He who had everything going for him in his career, took a gun, placed it against his body and pulled the trigger. He killed himself.

How would my neighbor feel if I said that's how I'm doing?

I'm tired. I'm trying for the dog. He went junk dog on me at the park again today; he becomes this ravenous animal when he finds something to eat on the ground - he crouches, cowers, runs away, chews and swallows looking at you like you're some kind of enemy. It's really frightening and it's extremely disappointing. He goes from this happy well adjusted and loved dog to a feral animal in the blink of an eye. This, the same dog that just 15 minutes prior was wagging his tail and flipping on his back to let me rub his tummy!

It scares me. What did I get myself in to? I really wish hubby was here to help me.

I miss him more and more every day.
 
That "how are you doing?" business is tough! Your neighbor sounds like he might be a nice guy. And he really might be concerned about how you're doing and might be wondering if there's any way he can help. Or he might not. If you don't give him some clue how you're really doing, it's hard for him to know what to do or say. And that's hard anyway.

Is there a response you really wish for and aren't getting from people? The whole situation is difficult. The people who really do worry about you don't know what would help and you don't want to be a bother.

I don't think 6 months is long at all when it comes to grieving someone who was such a huge part of your life!

Was your dog on his own for sometime, do you know? He may be afraid he'll never see food again and that might be why he reacts like that. It may take him awhile to trust that there's more dog food coming.
 
When my husband died it seemed like right away people were asking me when I was going to start dating again. Really pissed me off so much.

I only had one soulmate and he is gone.

:hug::hug::hug::hug::hug::hug::hug:
 
@scout86, I have no clue what to ask for. I think it's funny how it's the guys who ask, their wives don't come talk to me at all, I've only ever really spoken with the guys. I also don't want to cause friction in someone else's relationship too, I know that wives can get jealous (except me, I always just trusted my husband). Sigh. I think I just want someone to talk too, but when I talk about him I often start to cry. My neighbor did the usual, "Errrrr, It's gotta be hard, I mean, you know, I can't imagine. I just...can't imagine." There was a lump in my throat by then and I think my sister saw the tears threatening in my eyes, so she made a quick save by saying, "Yeah, but I've noticed a big change in her since this dog came along." and the dog kinda saved me too by walking up to my neighbor and taking the focus off of me. My dog approached a stranger!

My dog was one of 25 rescued from a home but I'm not sure he was there very long - long enough to learn that he has to go junkyard dog around found items. My dog understands basic commands, walks well on a leash, doesn't jump up or lick faces, he's very quiet, doesn't bark and he's well mannered. He lets me touch his tummy, his legs, his ears, he's still skittish about my hands near his mouth, around water and sudden movements but he knows things like sit, stay, come, up, down, off. He's a really good seemingly trained animal who was probably placed into a bad situation. I'm feeding him twice a day plus training treats to get him to engage and learning to play, otherwise he lays around either sleeping or staring off into space. He's also not food insecure in the house, I can put my hands near his food dish while he's eating and he won't growl or nip, he just eats his dinner and gives me a "uggh, what now?" look.

So far, when he's out and anxious, he can slip back into pure Rescue Dog personality very quickly, for instance, tonight, I was talking with two women who fell in love with him on our walk (5 doors down), and he was testing me, trying to pull toward the street, I was passively holding my ground to teach him I'm in charge, well a lady and her child came along the sidewalk on bikes, he immediately flinched, got the Rescue Dog fear look in his eyes, started to panic and try to run into the street. I get afraid he'll pull out of his collar. Of course, the ladies I'm with see him get scared and want to go to him but I had to bark at them (sorry ladies) because he looked at them with pure fear - sudden movements. I gently pulled him to me, talking to him gently and then pulled him to my side as I put my arm over him to pet him and hold him close to me, a solid object. He calmed and then I stood up, he immediately began to pull toward home. I'm trying to get him to expand his limitations and stay in the anxiety for longer periods each day. I don't know if that's okay for him or if I'm doing it wrong, all I know is what I needed to do to improve.

I wish I knew good coping mechanisms for dogs.

@gizmo, I know what you mean, my husband and I were so perfectly complimentary to one another. He was more outgoing than I was and I was the calm patient influence he needed. He was my soulmate and no one could ever come close to what he was to me. I wonder about people who think their husbands are "replaceable" after death. I also wonder about the ones who say, "He would have wanted me to be happy." Of course, my husband would have wanted me to be happy, but would he have wanted me to find another person to be with? I don't think so. He used to joke that if anything ever happened to him that my old buddy would probably move in and be my new husband - and certainly, after my hubby died, he made a sudden appearance in my life again but in reality, we are two completely different people than we were when we were kids, so although we can be close friends, there's no more there than that. I think he realized that too, because he disappeared from my life again after two months. Besides, I think he was actually just checking my net worth and evaluating me, ugh, he's a bit of a gold digger that way. No I don't really think my husband would have wanted me to find someone new. I think for the next six or so years, it will be me and my dog.

I was sitting here tonight talking to the dog about my husband, his "daddy". I told him how he didn't get to meet his daddy but I'm sure daddy would have loved him so much. His daddy was a nice man, a loving daddy and a happy guy. The dog got up from his little bed, wandered over to the other side of the bed which was my hubby's side and laid down on the floor for a few minutes. Then he got up, wandered to my hubby's clothes still hanging on the end of the bed, sniffed them, followed the scent around the room, stopped, looked over his shoulder at something then trotted over to his bed and laid down. I looked in the direction that he had looked and I smiled lovingly at what I can only imagine was my hubby - magical thinking, I know, but it made me feel so overwhelmed with love to think that my hubby had somehow communicated with the dog.

I ask my husband every night, why he felt he had to leave me. I wish every day he could still be here with me.
 
We had a tornado alert on the tv last night, the dog jumped and ran to me for direction. I was waiting to see what areas were supposed to take cover but it never said, so I took the dog out real quick for his evening constitution - ha, he could sense my concern, so he refused to go. We came back in, with black clouds heading our way and my sister texted me to take cover, she'd heard reports of a funnel near my town. So I quickly put my storm protocol into place and the dog and I went to the basement - he wouldn't go unless he was on leash, so I leashed him and HE led me to the safest location of the basement! This dog did not cower or try to run, he merely looked at me, saw my concern and went into calm, practiced storm protocol - and we've never practiced it! He munched on his treat while the storm blew through and never once got afraid. We were spared a tornado, thank heaven.

This was my first real storm without my hubby, odd how I didn't have to go through one this year totally alone. Maybe this dog was supposed to come to me. As we sat in the cold cellar hiding in the stifling heat, I kept thinking about last year; we had so many wicked storms pass through and husband NEVER went to the basement no matter how grave the warnings. Other times he'd be at work and I'd be frantically texting him, giving him storm updates, making sure he knew where I was in case we actually got hit and checking to make sure the weather was okay at work. I look back at how dependent I was on his calming influence and it makes me wonder if I was placing too much weight on his shoulders. Should I have just sucked up half of the crap I panicked over and just "handled it" on my own?

It makes me so sad to think that I'm "handling" all that crap on my own now and loads more on top because I HAVE TO, there is no other option. Hell, I've taken on caring for a dog, that alone is a massive responsibility. I don't know how I'm doing it. I know when it gets to be too much because I usually end up in tears, sometimes for no reason but often its because I was thinking of my husband. I miss him so much.

I watched his favorite movie last night before bed, The Punisher with Thomas Jane. My husband wore Punisher t-shirts under his uniform because he felt like he always drew the short straw in terms of fate, especially at work - worst calls imaginable and after years of them he said, he was "a better medic because of those calls." He was considered a Dark Cloud at work and people either feared working with him or wanted to work with him simply for the experience factor. It was almost guaranteed that if you had a shift with him that all Hell would break lose on the streets, so you'd better know your sh*t. I actually worked a few shifts with him, we were like a well oiled machine, I knew my job, I anticipated his moves and I knew what was going on in the call. He bragged for years about a call we'd done together, he said I was the best driver he'd ever worked with in his entire career, my driving was so smooth and steady that he was able to stand up in the patient compartment going through a construction zone where the asphalt was torn up. It was true, I remember that drive. I drive my dog like that now.

People used to ask why we were never full time partners and I always said that being married and working together was a recipe for disaster, first off he and I were intelligent and could bump heads; I always said I didn't need reasons to resent my husband. Secondly, he was a bit of a take charge guy, or as I described him, "an ass" because he almost ceased to be human as he ordered people around - I would have never been able to take charge of any calls or practice under my own decision making ability. I wouldn't have been able to grow as a medic; I wouldn't have become that medic that I was.

We tried to keep work at work and home at home but there were times when we'd get into an argument on our drive to work and I'd show up trying to hide the tears in my eyes as he sped away. Work invaded our home life a lot, from the news to podcasts to reading material and the good old gossip mill or administrative frustrations. There were things we carried home that could not be ignored and sometimes took days to reach a resolution too or be able to let go of. I felt like an ass when I could no longer listen to his work stories without triggering. I felt ashamed when I finally got the nerve to ask him not to speak about work at home for my psychological safety. He said he understood but did he really?

That may have been the start of his downfall - he could no longer talk to me about the things that bothered him about work. I kept asking him over the years if he resented me for not being able to be there for him when he needed to debrief, he always said no, he talked about the really bad stuff with people at work - but did he really? I'm not sure he was really debriefing in the way he needed too...the way we used too. I know just a year (?) ago I was feeling stronger in my coping ability and I had said to him, because I was concerned with his ever increasing irritability, "It's not fair of me to continue to ask you to shelter me from the things that happen at work...the bad calls. I'm feeling better able to cope with that stuff and maybe it's time we start phasing it back in because it's going to be our reality for a very long time." So he started on his next shift, coming home, going over the calls he'd done. I sat struggling to hide the reactions my body was having in response to hearing the gory details, looking down and pretending to be pondering while tuning him out and focusing on my breathing. I did the best I could but it was spilling over into my daily function and I was more and more heightened from day to day. I didn't want to ask him to stop and admit that I wasn't actually ready, so I didn't. Eventually he got annoyed at me, accusing me of not listening to him at all, testing me by asking me questions about the story he'd related, wanting my opinion on protocol or treatment regimens - treating me like a coworker. It was really hard on me and I was getting resentful toward him.

He needed something I was incapable of giving him.

Oh crap, why do people set off fireworks? Every single time I hear them I now hear gunshots and I picture my husband dead in his car. My dog didn't flinch at all, he's fast asleep. I just had a panic attack or maybe it was something else? I kept hearing gunshots, I tried telling myself they were the distant pops of fireworks, they got louder and my insides began to shake, I couldn't breathe deeply anymore and my breath started to hitch in my throat as tears formed and began to spill from my eyes. I know after I began to cry it quickly went hysterical and it felt like it was out of my control and it took a good five minutes before I realized I needed to breathe deeply.

I'm sad now. I really miss him. He's dead. I can't ever hug him or hold him or be mad at him ever again in this life. He shot himself. HE did.

My dog made his way to the basement on his own today and he was sniffing around inspecting things when I went to look for him. As I came down the stairs he looked at me, stopped his inspecting and walked to the door to the cold cellar and sat down, glancing back at me. I laughed at him, he must have thought it was a game yesterday. I called him to me and brought him to my husband's workout clothes still in a pile on the floor. I picked up the shirt, held it under his nose and said, "Daddy." The dog looked confused at the shirt, then began sniffing around, likely searching for the "other person" belonging to the shirt. He paused at my husband's shoes, his towel and another shirt I had placed on a box of stuff. After a while he lost interest in the game and just began randomly sniffing around the basement. I wanted to cry. He knows that the things belong to "daddy" but there is no Daddy to be found in this house. As he settles more in and gets used to being a part of our little family, I will show him pictures of his Daddy.

I miss our pack leader, I never wanted to be pack leader, I was fine being a good follower.
 
I was crying yesterday and the dog just started snoring louder, mind you, when I started to cry as I drove to the park yesterday afternoon he jumped up and tried to crawl to the front of the car, looking at me concerned - more than likely it was a "Hey look at how cute I am, please don't kill us both!" gesture.

I smelled my hubby on his shirt when i woke up this morning, it was strong. I had just finished dreaming about him - we were in some building, he was sleeping in another room, I was walking a bulldog down the hallway. Hubby came to my room and we walked a short hall to another darker room where there were two drinks waiting for us, they were in fancy cups and decorated with orange slices, I called them creamsicle swirl martinis (?) and his was smoking like it had dry ice in it. We sat and were sipping our drinks together on a nice couch with the dog at our feet. We just sat talking. I miss his company.

I took the dog out in the rain today. When we came back in, he smelled like wet dog, blech but as I walked into the living room, passing the couch, I smelled my hubby - strong, so strong I looked around for his shirt or an item of his and then looked at his spot on the couch where he always sat. It was coming from his spot. I just felt so light inside, tingly and happy. My first thought was, "he's back."

As I sat to have breakfast with the dog, smelling strongly of dog at my feet, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of canned salmon. It was so strong I sat up and looked around me, sniffed the dog and looked over at the two cans of salmon I'd bought for my sister on the counter - of course, neither was opened! I immediately thought to myself, "Is that you? Eating salmon!?" You see my husband and I had this thing about eating canned salmon, it wasn't my favorite stench in the world and I was very sensitive to it. I do like the sandwiches but the smell that hangs in the air from the can afterward, blech. Once I went to my sister's place for the weekend and when I came home I opened the door, came in, sniffed the air and said, "Did you eat salmon?" At first my husband denied it but then he admitted he'd eaten it but he said, "I ate it on Friday! I even washed the can and took it to work to throw it out! How can you still smell that?" It was always hilarious. Our running joke was that he'd only be able to eat salmon when I was away because he knew I would sniff it out with my uncanny salmon detecting nose. I smelled salmon today, strong. He must have been laughing wherever he is.

I was reading about a woman whose husband died from suicide 6 months ago and she just announced to her family that she is pregnant - it's obviously not her husband's child as she just discovered herself two months ago. Okay, call me prude, or old fashioned, or whatever but how can you get pregnant with another man's child only 3 months after your husband of 10 years kills himself? Well, first off, how are you sleeping with another person that soon afterward? For her to have known, she would have to be 4 weeks gone, which means at the 2 month mark, she was already sleeping with someone else. Okay, maybe I just have old fashioned beliefs about love and devotion after death.

There are all of these women whose husbands died by suicide who are dating and bed hopping and it was driving me insane until I realized that most of them are actually only in their 20s. Most were married young to soldiers who only physically came back from war or married to troubled young men who were into the seedier side of street life. I guess in this generation of the hook-up culture the concept of true love doesn't really have any meaning , it's just something people think they share. I can't imagine being a 20 something kid whose husband committed suicide - you're a widow in your 20s! I was just starting my career, hubby and I were just newly acquainted, living together and had the strong potential to break up. Our relationship wasn't solid like it was when he died at 52.

I also stopped myself from using a common, seemingly innocuous phrase when I was replying to another woman's comment about an a-hole she was dating who said her husband was in hell because of what he did. I was going to tell her that by finding out how much of an idiot this guy was so early in her relationship that she "dodged a bullet". Uggh, I felt like such a horrible person for even thinking it. My husband shot himself, so did hers. Such a common phrase with a completely different meaning when you've lived through something like we have. I just said instead that she was lucky and potentially saved herself a lot of grief.

Sensitive. When we found a dead bird on the bird feeder the other day, my sister looked at me horrified because we could not figure out how it had gotten into the predicament it did - it was wedged UNDER the lowest perch and it's neck was broken. I figured it had just stupidly tried to eat the seed that had fallen under the perch in the catcher and then been crushed by the larger birds. My sister joked, "Maybe he committed suicide." I didn't find that funny at all. Then she even said, "First Martin, now the birds." TOTALLY not funny! She just kept going on about how the stupid little bird had given up on life etc. etc. etc. I felt like she was saying that my house was cursed now.

I tried to shrug it off but it's been bothering me, she claims she's still broken up about my hubby's suicide and she often goes on about "how I still think he should be there." or "my poor baby sister" on social media, and when I start talking about a nightmare I've had or how I was missing him I'll get an indignant, "Well, I miss him too." from her or an "I still cry about him too." Like it's some sort of competition. She'll never understand and she'll never try, instead she'll just compete and instead of saying, "it's okay" she'll always say, "Well, me too! You're not the ONLY one!" He was my husband. She'll never have one. She'll never have a boyfriend. She'll never get it.

I miss this man more than anyone I've ever lost. I loved this man on a level that defies description. I was shattered that he took his own life, it makes no sense to me. It'll never make sense to me.
 
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