It’s been three months since that awful night. I have to say that, even with everything I had been through before, I had never felt such excruciating pain in all of my life. Not even the pain of surgery or childbirth, or the pain of hearing a cancer diagnosis, or of losing my father, or even the pain of seeing my lifelong partner die before my eyes could prepare me for the sudden impact of your unexpected death. That night, the sound of my heart ripping in two rang in my ears and I felt I would die from the agony in my chest. I wanted to die. That pain echoed within me for weeks afterwards until it finally dissipated into the dull throb of an older, open wound. Now it is starting to heal over, and eventually it will scar. I have survived the worst of it, I hope. It occurs to me now that the pain of losing you was and is so severe because our joy together was equally as pure and intense. And for that joy I am so grateful. Even though the pain of loss was more violent than anything I have ever known, I would go through it again just to experience that joy. You are worth it. You really are.
You continue to bless me every day through the love we shared. You are the reason I can trust God again. You showed me that I am loved, I am worthy of love and that happiness can be found if we are open to it. We were both lost and wandering when we met and through each other we found hope again.
Our time was brief, but it was so beautiful. Your death taught me to live for today because we are not guaranteed our next breath. I have learned that I am stronger than I ever thought possible and that, by trusting God, I can survive just about anything. I miss you, I love you, and I weep for you today, but the memory of the joy is still with me and I will always be a better person for having loved you.