I am a suicide loss survivor.
That sentence still gets me. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. It is a stark sentence that immediately joins you into a society you want no part of.
The look of shock and pity that used to come my way has faded since I stopped telling people.
I am not ashamed. As the years continue to go by, life changes. You aren’t forced to explain where someone’s dad is, or having to explain where a missing family member may be.
Instead it was my high school best friend. My first love. My first person of the opposite sex that I connected so well with, it was like it was meant to be.
And then it was gone.
And I was left to pick up the pieces and rebuild.
Most days I’m fine. It’s been a long time. I have an amazing husband and family, new best friends and old memories that I’m left to question and doubt.
But some days I miss you.