Don't grieve alone; 14,000 members and growing
My boyfriend died last week. He was only 32. He was the most amazing, strongest, bravest man I've ever met. He was the love of my life. We were planning our entire futures together.
We were only together for 4 short months. But they were the most amazing months. We met online, and were only friends at first. But we were more very quickly. Within a week of talking to him we were spending hours on the phone and sending hundreds of texts every single day. By the end of week 3 he told me wanted to spend his entire life with me. The feeling was mutual. I was so in love with him already.
We spent a magical week together for labor day. He said it was the best week of his entire life. He referred to me as his future wife during that time. And asked me when I wanted to get married. I knew it was crazy and fast. But I also knew it was RIGHT. He was the one I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with.
I knew Christopher had a lot of demons in his past. His depression was pretty intense off and on the entire time I knew him. When I was with him he was genuinely happy though. We started making plans for a future together.
At the beginning of October he was going through some really really bad stuff. I offered to drive out to pick him up so he could stay with me for a while. While I was there we decided it would be easier for him to just move in with me. We were so in love and knew that living together was definitely something we wanted to do. So what if we hadn't even known each other 3 months yet? We just KNEW we belonged together. Both of us felt it.
Due to some unnecessary drama, he ended up going back to Michigan a few days later. Even while he was on the train we were discussing when he would be coming back. He told me he couldn't live without me, and that sleeping next to me was his favorite thing in the world. He never made it back to me, though.
His last week was unbelievably bad. There was a lot of drama in his life all the time, but that week was worse. I was so worried about him. But I was also incredibly sick. I offered to come back and pick him up again. At first he said no. Then he asked me when I could be there. I told him I would be there the following week. He said ok, and he was looking forward to seeing me. That was Saturday. Sunday he called me and told me he loved me. It was the first time he had called me instead of me calling him for about a week. But I took it to mean things were better. Saturday he had told me he wouldn't do anything stupid. And that he just needed me. He said he didn't think he needed professional help. Just the one person in his life who he knew would love him no matter what.
Monday his mom found him in his bed. We still don't know whether it was accidental or on purpose. We don't even know for sure what killed him yet. There are so many unanswered questions. It's so hard.
For my own sanity, I have to believe he didn't kill himself. I have to believe he kept his last promise to me. And I have to believe he really was looking forward to seeing me again. I have to trust that he loved me as much as I love him. I am missing half of who I am. And my whole future was ripped away from me. I have to cling to the fact that I did everything I possibly could. And I WAS good enough. And I DID try hard enough. But that nothing could save him.
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Hi Carla,
welcome. Thank you for telling your beautiful and magical love story. Words are all we have to share with one another on this site, and they don't mitigate the grief. I hope that my words to you do not increase your pain. I grieve because I know a certain pain, of knowing, just knowing, deep down, that we are meant to be together, then forced apart. Knowing that person is mine, somehow always was, somehow always will be. Circumstances be damned, the love is just so strong. I know a certain pain of suddenly and unimaginably crashing down from happiness to horror, still fiercely loving through the worrying and caring and striving against my own limitations to be there, then helplessly forced to bystand while my love meets his life's destruction.
This is exactly how I feel. Early on in our relationship he told me he felt like he'd known me forever. And I felt the same way about him. It was just like we belonged to each other, no matter what. We moved fast. I'm not denying that. But it was RIGHT. Both of us thought so.
We were in our 30's. We had both had serious relationships before. In fact I had spent 10 years married to someone else. But with Christopher it was just DIFFERENT. It was just right and perfect from the start. Not perfect, as in we didn't have problems, but perfect as in exactly what we both needed and wanted.
Everyone in his family says thank you for loving him, it was hard. But it was NEVER hard to love him. It was hard to watch him sometimes, sure. But to love him? Never. He was the other half of who I am. He had a lot of demons. And it was hard watching him struggle against them. But my love for him never wavered. Even when other people seemed to think it should. He was part of me, how could I not love him?
Having demons is no character flaw. So much more so you can admire the person who fights to survive despite their presence. My heart goes out to you.
I agree completely. My Christopher was the strongest man I've ever met. He wanted to be well. It bothers me that his family seems to think he CHOSE the demons. He was a beautiful person, inside and out. He fought hard. I always told him "I love you with everything in me, no matter what." It's still true. Watching him fight and lose was the hardest thing I've ever been through. My heart aches when other people get it because they've been there.
I do believe you did everything you could and it's not a question if you were good enough. These were circumstances beyond your control and perhaps beyond his control as well. I hope my words don't cause you more grief either. But maybe he just couldn't hold on until you could get back to him.
We talked before and you might remember I'm struggling with my own guilt and questions, not saying you are feeling guilty, but I know you are wondering what else could have been done or said, and the answer being "nothing" is something I know I should be telling myself but I dont' know how. It's something I guess I may accept in time. I wish I knew how we move on, still trying to figure that out myself.
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