I entered a relationship very shortly after my wife died. (Hi, I haven’t been on tumblr in years and I don’t remember if I shared this. My wife died. Nearly 3 years ago. By suicide.)
And I lost some people with her death. Some that I needed to lose and others just…fell away. People don’t know how to handle suicide. I get it. But it was all traumatic as fuck. And my dear friend became my main community and my support and my love and somehow she became the tourniquet that kept me from bleeding out, so to speak, and then covid happened and my communities just got smaller and smaller and smaller but she was there and and and…
We broke up last week and the pain of both losses is all hitting me at once. I didn’t have to be *fully* alone when my wife died because I had this friend and person who had seen me through the traumas leading up to her death. Someone who was there. And now I’m just…here…in my little house…in this city where I don’t have many people anymore…avoiding going home to “family” because fuck if I’m gonna have to be around THAT in addition to all these feelings.
I spent my birthday texting a suicide hotline. A fucking useless one at that because, bless their hearts, how can a hotline expect to fill the role of connection when you actually don’t want connection at all? When you can’t even answer the phone if it’s someone you know calling. I’m safe and all that. But fuck. There’s my real life update for anyone who wants it. I don’t know how the human race evolved to live such long lives. I think 30-40 years is plenty.