Sometimes, I get a postcard from hell, like the one I’m about to share here, that reminds me, as bad as all that was for me, someone else’s trip through this shadowed valley was much worse.
“We have lived the same nightmare. Today 11/26/14 would have been my 3rd anniversary to the love of my life. He chose meth over me. When it first started I would partake but I needed to be able to function in the real world, so I stopped. Then the lies, locked boxes, locked cell phones, hiding the keys to his truck and so on.
I felt like I failed him and I still do…I don’t think I will ever get over this.
I went to his friends for help…he had none left.
I threatened drug dealers, he would find a new one.
He was not the man I married and I was heartbroken and still am. MP “died but I had no body to bury”. That is the exact feeling. He took a way downhill spiral after we divorced. He vowed to win me back, but I knew that I would relive the hell again.
He died 13 months after our divorce in a 4-wheeler accident, now he was really gone and we did have a body to bury.
I thought I was healing the pain and then BAM, I hit rock bottom again, worse than ever before. I was close with his family, they were my family. They supported my decision to divorce him. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want help. Being the daughter of a funeral director, I went to my father.
What do I do? Is it ok to be mad and sad? Can I cry? Do I do to the funeral? Do I go see his family? What in the hell do I do?!
I did spend time with his mom, she needed me and I needed her. I didn’t go to the funeral, my father told me not to. I wanted to but deep down I knew I couldn’t handle it. He was right and I am glad I listened.
I wrote him a letter and had his mother put it is in casket. I still visit his grave and beg him to come to me in a dream so we can talk. It has been 4 months now and I’m still waiting… I need closure, for him to know I’m sorry, that I still love him, I’m sorry I failed him, that I couldn’t help him, that we didn’t get the life together that we deserved.
I am grateful for the new man in my life. He has let me grieve and held me tight. I love him, he is a great man. We are getting married next week. I am excited to spend my life with him. But MP is always in the back of my mind.
I feel guilt over this. Any advice would be greatly appreciated. This is something that I have no one to talk to about this. Any words would be helpful. Thank you.” – Meredith”
There are no words I could say to make any of this feel better for you. You have found yourself in an ocean of regret, being bashed from all sides by the “what-ifs” of a situation you were never in control of. The person who held the reigns of that life has passed on now, and somehow you believe that only he would have been able to unlock the door of this emotional prison you are suffering in, and let you out. Now that he is gone, you feel like you’ll be there forever, and even worse, you feel like you deserve to be.
The truth is, Meredith, MP struck out on a journey of his own, and even though you loved him, you weren’t able to adjust and accept his destination, and eventually, you had to stop trying. What women like us have a hard time accepting is that our love was finite. It was so all-consuming and powerful in our lives when times were good, we are almost always so positive it would never run out. Then, something like this happens, and the well goes dry so much more quickly than we could have guessed, and we feel disappointed in ourselves. Where was the love that would span eternities? Where was the ability to put him first above all else, even though we ourselves would suffer greatly?
It may sound sexist, but women have an amazing ability to love someone far, far beyond what is healthy for them. Why is it that when it comes to women who are murdered, it is almost always someone they loved? It’s because we girls were designed by God to be able to truly love, and that is an ability that carries with it an almost dangerous problem when it comes to protecting ourselves. We tend to value the lives of those we love above our own, and when it comes to the truly romantic women, there is even an edge of Shakespearean allure to the perceived probability that we could end up dead at the hands of a dope-sick, tragic man we dearly loved.
Reality is far less romantic. Your love story meant something to you, and to MP, and now that he is gone, it belongs entirely to you. Do not waste the ending with regret, and stop being pummeled by “what-ifs”. There is no guarantee that anything you could have done differently would have yielded a better result. Your pain, even now, is a testimony to the world that MP had at least one person on this earth who truly loved him, and not everyone gets that. Remember him the way you, and only you, would know he would like, and forgive the rest of it. The bad memories will eventually lose their sting, and as time goes by, they will fade into nothing. MP, like anyone, deserves to have someone remember him a little sadly, and to miss him, and that is what you owe him. Nothing more.
There is nothing to be gained by allowing yourself to remain in this emotional prison. You may have made some big mistakes, but that is pretty much how life goes for all of us. We make big mistakes, and sometimes, we end up hurting those we love terribly. But, as you forgive MP, you must also forgive yourself. Who doesn’t have a set of things we wish we could go back and do differently? You are in good company.
Go to his grave. Tell him what he did that failed you. Tell him how much you were devastated by all of it. Cry. Tell him you forgive him. Then, you forgive yourself as well. Leave all that regret there at his grave. Tell your family only the good things you’ll miss about him. Let the other die off.
You are going to be okay, Meredith. Even better, you deserve to be. I’m here for you if you need me.