To start, I am a 37-year old woman who has never been married and has no children. Just over a year ago I met a man who I thought was the answers to all of my prayers. We went from zero to 60 in no time and it just all felt so right. We began making statements about our future together and were planning on officially moving in together. He had told his entire family and most of his friends that he would marry me and I won't lie, I felt the same. He turned 30 in September, which made me happy as I didn't feel quite as old then. Since we hadn't been together long, we were still learning things about each other and with the holidays quickly approaching, we were still trying to figure out how it was going to work, incorporating each of our families in our life together. Then it happened. November 9th we went to bed and when I woke up on November 10th, I realized he would never wake up again. It was a shock on so many levels. I mean he had just turned 30! He was young and really wasn't showing signs of being ill! I finally had my happiness! How is this happening?!?! How did he die in the middle of the night and I not know?!?! What did I miss?!?! How can I face his family?!?! How can I face the entire community that loved him so much?!?! How did this happen?!?! I then had a choice to either let a poor young cop go break the news to his parents or buck up and do it myself. I had to tell them myself. Not being a parent I cannot even imagine receiving such news. Then I went home, to my home. To my empty home. Don't get me wrong, I had family and friends with me by now, but my home was gone. He was gone. We weren't married. We weren't living together. What was my place now? Later that day his family had already begun cleaning his house out. His mother, not knowing what to do with herself, washed everything he had. Nothing had his smell anymore. They didn't tell me they were doing this. But I couldn't be mad. I just felt lost. Empty. Broken. Like I was standing still, stuck in a moment, but everything else kept moving and I couldn't stop it.

His family then grabbed on to me as an extension of him and I couldn't not be there for them. They were more than inclusive with regard to the funeral and since. They think of me as family. In part, this feels awesome, but for the longest time it held me back from truly grieving. I couldn't get away from everyone looking at me and seeing him. I realize in his death just how much we had become one. I note we were together for almost 7 months. Which I look at and think how short, but it feels like a lifetime, but then doesn't. Everyone and everything I did was in memory of him, was in honor of him. I felt smothered and then felt such guilt for feeling that way. Then I pulled back from it all and went into a deep depression. I've always been able to handle whatever was thrown at me. Depression was not something I ever felt. I did not want to talk to anyone. I did not want to get up in the morning. I did not want to go to work. I wanted to crawl into a hole and when I climbed back out to have everything be a bad dream. I talked a little to family and friends. I got what support they could give, but it was still there. And then the guilt kicked in again. How could I do this to my family and friends. I need to snap out of it. They depend on me. I can't keep burdening them with my stupid emotional issues. Those were some of the darkest days. I never felt so alone in my entire life.

Now this is the extremely selfish part of me. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I am 37. I still want to find someone to spend my life with and I even still have hope of children one day, although that is dwindling. I wasn't forgetting him, but he had made me realize more than I ever thought before him how, yes I'm independent and can take care of myself, but I wanted to share my life with someone. He was supposed to be that someone. He was gone and not coming back. How long was I supposed to grieve? I'm running out of time for children. No matter how long I wait, in the end he was still not coming back. And then guilt came back tenfold. How can I do that to his family! His friends! Our friends! My family understood. They wanted me to be happy. They also want grandkids. :) But who would date me? I mean, I still wanted to be a part of his family. Be able to hand out with our friends. How can I introduce someone else into that environment and expect them to accept it. How selfish can I be. So then I found myself beginning to slowly accept the idea that I would forever be alone. That maybe that was my lot in life. And the depression came back. Crying over the littlest things. Not getting out of bed on the weekends. Ignoring regular household chores. Not talking to anyone. I'm not sure what or why, but somehow I did come out of it somewhat and decided to "date". At this time my idea of "dating" was just find someone completely separate from everything and keep it totally casual and physical. Just have the limited companionship of having someone to talk to and to feel without investing too much. I guess for time reference this was a decision I made this past March/April. Shortly after the first time I spent the night with another man, I laid in bed and cried. I felt such guilt and shame. I could I dishonor his memory like that. How could I cheat on him. It had been such a short time since he left me.

Oh...speaking of leaving me. We found out he died of congestive heart failure. He refused to go to the doctor as he did not have the best health insurance. He never knew he had it. He hadn't been feeling well and complained to his boss and his father, but never said a word to me. He was tired and seemed run down a little during the last few weeks before he passed, but he also worked manual hard labor. I also realized that in the middle of the night/early morning when I was irritated with his snoring, it was his lungs filling up with fluid and him drowning. Granted, who would know that at 2:00/3:00 am, but that added to my guild and fury. I became so angry with him. Why didn't he tell me he wasn't feeling good. Why didn't he go to the doctor? WHY? He did this to me! He left me here alone! He taught me what it was liked to be loved and then took that love away! How could he do this to me! And then the guilt.

So, I am still trying to figure all of this out. I have good stretches where I feel like I've got a handle on my grief. That I am able to move forward. That I'm starting to feel like me again. I don't feel quite so homesick. See, he was home. My house no longer is a complete comfort to me. His house was gone the day he died as his family cleaned it and changed it completely from him. It has since been sold. I'm still me. I still can take care of myself and am not dependent on a man to feel complete. But...well,I'm human. I still have the stretches where I feel lost, broken, stuck. Which is why I finally decided that I should look into a way to express those times without feeling like I'm burdening my family and friends. I still want to find someone to share my life with and potentially have a family. I still want to not feel like I'm forgetting him and the love we shared. I don't want to feel guilty for having any of these feelings. I want someone to explain to me what I should be feeling and how or what I should be doing now.

As long as this is, this is the short version. Thank you for giving me a platform to express these emotions.