5 years. 

Today is five years since my boyfriend died. I don’t think it gets “easier”. Finding a way to live since it happened hasn’t been “easy”. There was my life before “it” happened… And now my life after. 

I don’t think about my life before. I’ve always found that for me to function with any situation that is fucked up is for me to pretend it just didn’t exist. I miss him but I don’t think about the things we used to do or places we would go or plans for family we might have had. 

It’s hard to see everyone else move on with their lives as time passes. It feels like they’ve forgotten he existed and it hurts because he won’t ever experience all the things like marriage and children (even if it wasn’t with me). There’s something about then idea of that loss of potential that I just can’t get over. 

I’ve always felt he would have been much better at “living” than I have been. He had lots of friends, siblings, nieces and nephews… He was very social while of course I am the opposite. Even though I know I will never understand why it had to happen it doesn’t mean I don’t still want to know. 

People ask if I haven’t “gotten over it” yet… Like it’s some trivial event that happened that you can forget. I don’t think anyone can just get over the total removal of a person from existence itself. You adapt maybe… To the silence. The void. The space of pain. That is now left behind with you.. In you. 

I don’t think I can be in a real relationship again. Something was broken or just… Killed when he died. I somehow feel outside of the possibility of any such experience. 

I know I’m not going to be in a good frame of mind today… Days like today are just about trying to get to its end. 

  
 

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