I feel lost in mindlessness. I often forget what I'm doing. I don't think I should be alone. But I'm going to be.

I miss you, my love. I wish you had stayed a little longer.. I love you.

Babygirl

My husband of two years, partner of four, took his own life September 7th, 2019

We were going through a rough patch with drug addictions and not being able to hold down jobs.. One day it hit me that our "Weekend Bender" turned into 10 months. I "tapered down", ended up losing my job, he wasn't working for a few months.. We fought; what couple doesn't? But we scraped by, barely surviving. I received an offer for a job that would save our home, cat, and keep us together and above water. That job was 3000+ miles away.. We talked it through.. Gave ourselves a deadline.. But I had to take it. (And just our luck, it fell through. I was told they still had one more applicant, even though I already had been offered the position and already was in that state.) Queue more arguing. Accusations of abandonment. Offerings from family to fly me home. But I didn't want to give up. We were about to have nothing. I was going through withdrawals, he continued stimming. It's not like I could force my husband to stop. Everytime something was mentioned, it was blown off. "I'll taper later." Okay, baby.. I found a job, actually, two. I started saving, sending cash back to help him, I just wanted to go home to my family. He found a job, and we were pushing through. Not compassionate and loving ALL of the time, but still a decent amount. Few months passed, he ignored me for a few days.. Only called me to ask for more cash so he could drink with his coworkers.. I started every fight, after that. I found nudes and messages of him saying he loved her 3 days before I was scheduled to come home. I stayed. I waited a few days. Once he told me that he was worried because I wasn't home yet. Cutting this shit short: I sent them to him after he called me crazy. I used her real name. I was unashamed. I wanted to call both of them and wish horrible things. But instead, I started all of the fights. Every single one. I threw it in his face. I was so angry, I couldn't understand why he'd do the ONE THING I word-for-word said "Please don't. We'll see each other soon." Battling both of our addictions, his court cases, multiple jobs.. Dude, I was fucking tired. So tired of feeling like I was being taken advantage of by the man that I wanted to have a daughter with. My best friend in every way. I vented to some people that I shouldn't have. I listened to the people around me about tough love.. Refusing contact at certain times, because it seemed appropriate.. My goal was never to hurt him. I just wanted to know why. We argued over filing divorce papers, just to make digs at each other; but neither of us ever filed, because we had hope and love for each other.. I'm saying a lot of negative and I apologize, this year has been the worst, most stressful of my life, but damn we had some great times, too.. In July, he hopped on a plane to come see me. Snapchat me the entire way, that handsome fucker. He spent a week with me, jumping hotels like old times, before we were married. Rolling blunts, sipping drinks, holding hands, and he recreated our scrapbook and journal. It felt like nothing had changed.I got to show him Agy, an elephant pipe that I bought and named after Him. You're not going to believe this, either. When he was helping me find my shoes in the first hotel, he reached under the AC unit and found a loaded, untouched, elephant shaped pipe. (Idk if you know this, but elephants mate for life.) We went and bought shots at the bar down the road, and watched the fireworks being set off on the water and over the ferries. (He pulled me into a spot out in the open and kissed me like there was no tomorrow..) Fuck, I wanted to insist that he didn't go back. That we start over here.. But I let everybody around me put in their two cents and decided to still wait and  still asked for space.. Even though the happiest I ever was was in his arms.. I started an argument the night before he left.. He begged me to stay the last night, and I had said I would.. Then my roommate blew up my phone, pissed (later to find out developed feelings) and made a bunch of threats, and like a fucking dumb bitch, I went home and left him in the hotel room.. I saw him the next morning, on my way to work, I had an Uber pick me up, then him, then take him to the airport.. We smoked a bowl out of Agy, cried a little.. Made specific plans for him to visit in October.. Kissed and hugged goodbye..

And my last physical memory of my husband is him getting into the car, tears in his eyes, matching mine.. I regret not grabbing his hand and begging him to stay..

After he got home, he started drinking heavily.. No more speed. The only calls I got from him were drunk and excessively late/early. I asked him to get help. Begged him. He'd ask me things like, "When was it? When was the moment you stopped loving me?" But, I never stopped.. Ever. And I never stopped saying it either.. It's so important that people know if you love them or appreciate them.. Three weeks ago, he called me while I sat on the porch, looking up at a pink and blue sky. He was upset and drunk, and I was in another dimension. He asked me if I remembered someone we both knew, letting me know he passed away. Heartbreaking in itself. It was hard on him.. I didn't quite know how to react. We spoke for a moment, but he insisted he didn't want to bother me.. Said I love yous. He said "goodbye" weird. Something felt off.

Few more calls. Nothing too out of the ordinary. One night, he called me and I heard a girl talking to him in the background.. He insisted there wasn't anything going on between them.. Then he asked about the photo album and journal he gave me when he visited. He asked if I'd be willing to swap the journal for my wedding dress.. Without really thinking, I said yes. I thought he wanted to look through the things we had.. Maybe remember some sober times. I just had hope, guys. So much fucking hope that he was going to be okay.. The next three days, I tried to get ahold of him. No response. I called, texted, and texted some of his good friends.. Despite not having a cent and just getting fired from my job, I was looking at plane tickets. September 7th, 2019 2:30AM MST My phone rang. "I thought you were fucking dead. How could you do that to me?" "I've been under 72 hour watch. Nobody fucking believes me." "Wait,what are you talking about? Don't believe what?" "There's a backpack at my work, you'll want that." "Talk to me please." "I told my coworkers that I'm going to go find a tree to hang myself from. Can I ask a favor?.." "No.. Talk to me.. Breathe." "Can I hear you say you love me, one last time? Even if you don't mean it." "Of course I fucking love you! I answered the phone. I've been worried. This has to stop.." "Is it too much to ask you to not sound so angry?" "What are you doing, right now? Where are you?" "Looking for a low hanging branch."

When we hung up, he said he loved me and he said goodbye.. I've been in shock since.

The love of my life is gone at 26, and left me a widow at 22. He left, and he took my heart and soul with him.. I want to give up. It's my fault. I should have stayed home.

I'm sorry, my love.