I will never forget that July 5th. I woke with a hollow feeling in my stomach, but I tried to ignore it. I ate breakfast, went to get a haircut, and received that call. My sister telling me that she needed to meet me at home. She met me outside, beside the swimming pool. Sat me down and told me that you had died. I had been waiting for that news for years at that point, but it still broke my heart. I had divorced you because I loved you and I love me. I needed you to get the help that you so desperately needed. I waited, and I loved you. I dated another person, but I didn’t really love them. You were the only person who I had ever loved. I believed that we would find our way back to each other because that much love couldn’t be for nothing. That day broke my heart in a way that I didn’t know was possible. It ripped a hole into the very core of me that in some ways has still not healed.
Though, I am happy now. Married again, to a man that I love every bit as much as I love you. Something that I didn’t think was possible because I had never loved anyone before I loved you. We have a beautiful daughter. I am pursuing my dreams. Yet, despite all of this, sometimes I worry that I have changed my telephone number too frequently and you won’t be able to reach me. I wake up at night, and am shocked that the person curled next to me is not you. I miss you more than I can bear at times, because ours was a story with no ending. We loved each other and one day you died. You died because you were an alcoholic trying to get clean on his own. You died because your heart just gave out. You died because no one could ever tell you how to do something. You died, and no matter what happens in my life you will be the person that I loved first. I pray that someday it stops hurting so much during this time of year. I pray that at some point, your loss won’t drag me down.