Third, I mourned the loss of my best friend. Every time life sporadically changed you were there. When I didn’t believe in myself you believed in me. When I questioned whether or not I was good enough you were there to remind me of my accomplishments. When I got caught up in my thoughts you guided me back to reality. When I was scared and felt vulnerable you were by my side. When I felt alone you reminded me I wasn’t. Even when we weren’t dating you were my other half. No one ever understood the dynamics of our relationship; why we were so tight, why we were inseparable , why we always came back to one another. I’m not sure we understood it, I just know we always found our way back to each other. We always balanced one another. You were my calm, I was your storm. We bounced off one another, always laughed together, always shared. If I take things out of the relationship context you’re still there. Your absence is still hard to fill. Your presence is still very well missed…and honestly losing you in this respect is much harder than losing you as a mate. The unexpected loss of 20 years of history is unfathomable. The loss of a connection is indescribable. At least once a week I am inadvertently tasked with figuring out how to fill that friendship void. I’m STILL mourning this loss. Each situation I’m presented with where I want to reach out to you is always different so it causes me to deal with the loss from a different angle. They say time heals everything, I guess 20 years takes more than 9 months. I. STILL. MISS. YOU.

My idea of family?!?!? Busted! You, your shenanigans completely ruined that. This took took forever to get over, yet accepting this piece is what actually brought my newfound PEACE. I used to think our family would be a love story for the ages, a dream…something straight out of a fairy tale…after all not everyone lives to marry their high school sweetheart. Before we ever found out I was pregnant WE. WERE. IN. HEAVEN. House hunting, planning, supporting you as you relentlessly pursued your dream career, you supporting me in total entrepreneurship, us making it work. I honestly don’t think I’d ever been happier; it felt like the stars finally aligned in our favor. I daydreamed about our future children looking like you. I dreamt about all the extracurricular activities we’d have them in…actually we talked about them….family gatherings at the kids’ events…..celebrating milestone. I dreamt of how good you’d be with them. I dreamt of us celebrating marital milestones….silver and golden anniversaries…vow renewals with our children by our side. I cloaked myself in the idea of finally breaking the curse of single moms in my family. After all you already had a daughter whom you were very engaged with. I saw the care and love you out into her and I said “wow, my future babies are going to be so lucky.” Then we got the news, and everything changed. Our beautiful boy was born and you weren’t there. You weren’t involved. You missed everything….literally everything. Work was always your excuse. I knew it didn’t feel right, didn’t seem right but I was still optimistic, taking you at your word….then the other shoe dropped and all of a sudden I was a single mom. You were no longer there, not an option. The dreams I had died the day you couldn’t answer where the hell your mother got such a crazy idea. Our plans died, my future died that day. No more marriage, no more house, no more kids(or at least not all by the same person), no more seeing you as a loving father. My vision of you died. My family died that day. Clearly there was no way I could ever open my heart or trust anyone ever again. And really who the hell dates with kids? You mean I’m supposed to trust another man around my child? Ha! No thanks. DEATH. DEATH OF HOPE. DEATH OF DREAMS. DEATH OF FUTURE. FEAR. LONELINESS. DESPAIR. While losing you as a friend was the hardest to mourn and certainly took the most time, death of a future is a hard pill to swallow. How do I get past this? How do I not sink into a depression and give up?

I prayed; I cried!! I prayed on the way to work, throughout the day. I silently cried myself to sleep at night, or every time I saw what presented itself as a loving family. I cried every time your name came through my phone. I sought therapy. I cried there too. I talked about how much I love and now hated you all at the same time. I cried. I prayed while I cried…I cried while I prayed. I repeated that cycle for months. I went on with my life as though nothing changed. The facade was REAL. I immersed myself in my son and his happiness, afterall his happiness and wellbeing was all that matter at this point. I mourned. I haven’t mourned this much or this hard since losing my grandmother. I. MOURNED, but I held it together in public. The majority of my friends and family had no clue what was going on. I carried on and spoke as if “we” was still a thing. “Our” family was fine. I informed you of things going on with the baby. I wrote your name on all pertinent forms, you were still very much apart of “my” life. My mom circle was still that of 2 parent families; dads of the families still asking “when is he gonna take a day off and have a family day with us?” No one knew I was dying inside, I was miserable and I was attempting to come to grips with a new reality. The one thing I needed was time. Time to mourn, time to grieve, time to cry, time to heal. Time is the ONE thing I felt I couldn’t give myself….because I was now a single parent and my everything needed to go into my sweet baby boy. It’s been 9 months and I’m still processing; I’m definitely healing. I feel stronger, I feel better, there’s no longer a pit in my stomach when I see a 2 parent home. No longer a twinge of jealousy and pain when I see a dad with his child. This is still my cross to bear, my child will NOT bear it. Afterall the mother must bear the pain for the son. For the moment I am no longer grieving and all it took was time…..which led to…..acceptance!