dear j

i figured something was up yesterday when you never sent me pictures of the cookies you were baking once they were done. you were so excited about them when you sent me that first picture. i resisted the urge to poke fun, those candy cane shaped ones looked especially… suspect. in any case, when all i got was radio silence after asking you for pictures of the finished product and sharing in the christmas cheer, i just assumed you had gotten into a fight with him. or maybe a kid got sick or something like that. something frustrating, or annoying. something mundane.

never in a million years would i have been able to foresee receiving that message from you at 4am this morning.

how monumentally unfair. holy fucking shit. my heart literally stopped beating for a moment as i read your words – “My husband passed away.”

we barely knew each other, i mean, we only actually met a month ago, but you were going through almost the same things as i was, and still am, and we shared so many parallel feelings. it was so comforting, so helpful, so cathartic to be able to talk to someone else about all of this who was feeling the same things and going through the same experiences. it was so relieving hearing about someone else’s struggles which so closely mirrored my own, making my own personal brand of fucked up seem just a little more ‘normal’. that’s the fucked up thing about separating from someone you’ve been with for so long and have so much history with, especially when there are kids involved… unless they’ve been through it, no one really understands. friends get real tired of hearing about it, real fast. it’s even worse when the reasons for your separation are related to your own unhappiness and your own struggles with limerent feelings. that on it’s own is met with so much judgment that it’s pretty much guaranteed to be something you have to work out on your own and never talk to anyone about.

despite the fact that we only just met, we certainly had a connection, that commonality, that separate yet still shared experience. i appreciated talking to you so much, and i know you felt the same way. but i fear our paths have now very much diverged.

i will try my best, but i really don’t know how to help you here. i don’t know what to say to offer you any kind of comfort. i don’t know how to react when you tell me what you are feeling now. what has happened to you is my worst nightmare. i am still completely shaken by this, and i can’t even begin to imagine how you actually feel. when you told me his last words to you, when you told me what he told to your daughters… i don’t even know what to say. that is beyond brutal. that is beyond what anyone should ever have to bear.

i can tell you over and over it was not your fault. all of your friends and family can tell you it was not your fault. but i know that you will always believe it was your fault and that there is nothing in this world that can change your mind. i know what you are thinking. i know how you think. we’re too similar like that and i know how i would feel.

i’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve this. your two little ones didn’t deserve this. what a fucking tragedy in its purest form.

try to hold on, ok? i know your journey will likely never get the happy ending you were so desperately hoping for, and that breaks my heart so fucking much. but your girls need you more than ever now, they are still young, they still have a chance. help them see that, ok?

please take care of yourself as best as you can. remember to eat. remember to sleep. be kind to yourself.

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