On February 13th, 2015, my husband, Storm Treasure, made the decision to take his life and leave me alone on purpose. I decline to share the ugly details.
I miss my husband. He was crazy. Truly. He shared his mental health history with me early in our relationship. I will not tell his tales except to say that he was crazy, he acknowledged this freely, and he had often told me he was on the edge of suicide many times before meeting me. Something about loving me gave him the strength to want to live. His love for me wasn't bigger than his hate for himself.
I still can't make sense of it. Our life together was a rich life, full of goodness and happiness. We had an argument...a rare event in our world. I still don't understand how an argument turned into a dead husband. I don't know how a man who professed to anyone that would listen that his wife was the love of his life could throw that away so easily, in the shrug of a shoulder. I don't understand why he was leaving me. I don't understand any of it.
I feel betrayed. I feel so angry and frustrated. I feel so overwhelmed. My life is in shatters. My world is broken, and so am I. My tears never stop coming. My heart is broken.
My home is full of memories, and I trip over them everywhere I turn. I cannot avoid him as I drive down the streets, remembering moments and days when we did mundane things like talk about the traffic and shop. There's no place I can go in this town where there's not the memory.
I still talk about him in the present. "The way Storm and I train our dogs..." "The way Storm prefers for me to keep it..." It hurts me all over again. It hits me all over again.
I don't wake up in the morning and ever not remember. Not once. Each day, it's upon me like an oppression, pressing down on my soul.
I feel like it's hard to live. It takes me three hours to make a meal out of pre-cooked turkey breast and instant mashed potatoes. Just cooking the meal, after the many delicious meals cooked by my husband, makes me cry, because he will never cook for me again.
There are many things he will never do again. He will never touch my face and say, "My Rose, do you feel loved?" He will never again ask me why I married him. He will never again pull me in his arms and make it better. He will never again whisper in my ear that he loves me. He will never have a mundane conversation about my new shoes again. He will never make me a rose bath. He will never tell me how shtoopid he was. He will never again make me laugh with my head thrown back and no care of how it sounds. He will never break our electronics. He will never meet his grandson. He will never see the sun set over the Pacific Ocean while we watched the waves ever again.
Everything makes me angry. Stupid people make me angry. My dogs make me angry. Driving makes me angry. He makes me angry. I'm so fucking angry. Because every time I think to myself how much I loved my husband and how much he loved me it is immediately followed by the painful thought that he threw it all away it was so important to him. That he left me on purpose. We ruined it with our anger and pain and hateful words and shouting. Our final moments together were not ones of love and kindness, but bitterness and frustration. I can't just love my husband and miss him...I have to remember the pain and the anguish and the hurt that came at the end.
I want to begin healing, but I don't know how to live without him. I never imagined a life that he wasn't a part of. I don't know what I even want without him. I am lost without him. My world is broken and it cannot be fixed.
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